Godzilla: Tactical Assault
by Locutus6
Summary: A soft reboot of the entire Godzilla franchise. Starting in the 1940s. A serious take on what it would be like to fight against giant monsters. Somewhat gritty and graphic. Featuring old monsters, new monsters, and some monsters 'slightly' re-imagined. Paying tribute, and respecting, what came before, but still containing many surprises. Looking at certain things in a new way.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue: The First Incident

**Chapter 1****: The First Incident and the Events Leading Up to It.**

-Washington D.C. Nov 1st 1994.

A car drives up Independence ave. It is black with tented windows and government plates. It passes the Capitol building. Congress is in session, but this is not it's destination. It continues onward passing the Washington Monument and then past The Lincoln Memorial and finally crossing over the Potomac River.

It arrives at the Pentagon and stops at the main entrance. A young Officer in a Navy uniform steps out of the vehicle and crosses over to the back passenger door. He opens it and holds the door open standing at attention. As his passenger steps out he salutes. The passenger is an older man bearing all the trappings of an Admiral in the United States navy, with the one notable exception of a patch on his right upper arm. The atypical patch is an indication of a specialized branch of service.

Without a word the Admiral climbs the steps of the Pentagon and starts making his way through various security checkpoints. He presents his badge indicating his security clearance at each checkout without incident. The guards keep the conversation to a minimum, but dutifully salute the admiral as he passes by.

The Admiral makes his way to the department of naval intelligence and finds an envelope waiting for him in the message box on his desk. He is not surprised to find it there. He happens to be good friends with his superior and was well aware of what was coming. He opens letter and finds it is exactly what he had been anticipating; his new orders. Despite knowing what they would say, he none the less read through the contents carefully. He grimaced slightly.

When he was finished he folded the letter and put it back into the envelope. Without wasting a moment he proceeded back out of his office and toward the nearby stairwell. He could have taken the elevator, but he preferred to stretch his legs instead. He made his way down until he found himself in the archives in the lower levels.

At the check in desk of the archive the Admiral found a young clerk sitting reading a book. He appeared to be engrossed in whatever he was reading because the old man was standing right in front of him before he even looked up. When the young man finally did notice him, he was a little frightened to be caught so unawares. When the clerk put his book down the admiral was surprised to see it was about naval history. he noted by the bookmark that the clerk had not gotten very fair into it yet.

"How can I help you sir?" The young man ask.

"Yes, I am Admiral Marcus Ryan. Are you the only one here?" Ryan inquired.

"Ah, Yes sir" The clerk replied.

"Very well then, I will require your services." Ryan informed him. "I need to pull all the records and reports from the UNGCC files. Your name is?"

"Ah, it's Penwood sir." The clerk replied. "Did you say all of the UNGCC files sir? That's encompasses an entire section of archive sir."

"Yes, I am aware of that son." The Admiral smirked. "You'd better get started, we are going to be at it for quite a long time. Please bring me the oldest files first and the rest in order from there."

"Oh, Yes sir." Penwood started to get up.

"And would you be so kind as to point me in the direction of the largest table down here?" Ryan added. "I'm going to need lots of space."

"Yes Sir, just around the corner you will find just what you need." Penwood replied.

"Very good." Ryan noted the location. "Bring the files there. I will also some paper and something to write with."

"Yes sir, you will find everything to need in the alcove just there." He point to a place just behind the Admiral Ryan.

Minutes later Admiral Ryan had settled into the chair was looking down at a file labelled in big red letters: '_THE FIRST INCIDENT AND THE EVENTS LEADING UP TO IT.'_

"Sir?" Penwood was standing next to Ryan, he had not heard him. "I noticed the name 'Ryan' was listed on the file. Did a relative of yours contribute to this report?"

"No son." Ryan smirked. "If you search through the contents of this file you will find _I-witness_ statements made by a very young seaman by the name of Marcus Ryan." Penwood looked confused. "You see, I was present for a lot of the events outlined in this report. It's not a mistake that an old man like me was assigned to sift through these dusty old records.

"Oh, I see." Penwood replied nervously, not knowing how else to respond.

"Since you're going to be helping me out with this I might as well let you in on my little secret. I have been ordered to put together comprehensive report that is to be presented to the U.N. Security Council." Ryan explained. "But I need to widdle it down to just the essential information.

Penwood looked impressed.

"There were a lot of young fellows at the time who could have told you what they saw back then, but now a days our numbers are getting a little thin."

"We are lesser as a whole for that sir." The young man noted. Ryan could tell he really meant it, because the young clerk seemed a little embarrassed when he smiled at him.

"Ha, I like you Penwood. That's why I'll tell you another secret. It would have gotten me in a lot of trouble back then, but well, suffice to say, we are well past that now."

"Oh, ok." Penwood was not sure where he was going.

"Anyways, I was a bright kid growing up, but I also had a bit of a knack for finding trouble too. Mischief was my constant companion. I gave my mother more sleepless nights than a kid ever has a right to." His smile widened a bit more with that last sentiment. "I graduated high school a full year early, which made my mother all sorts of happy. She thought I'd be able to do anything I wanted to with my life. She thought for sure I'd be off to college with my grades, but I was labelled as somewhat of a hell-raiser you see. Some of the more unsavory behaviors in my permanent record closed a lot of doors for me. Still, I think it surprised the hell out of my mother when I enlisted in the navy at the age of 16. I could have waited a few months and signed up legally when I was seventeen with my mother's consent, but I knew I wouldn't get that out of her and I was never a very patient boy in any case. I wanted to be like my old man, live a life full of adventure. I knew a guy who could doctor my documents to make them look legit. My father had died young just a few years earlier and that motivated me to get out and see the world. My family was poor, so there were few others options other than joining the navy."

"If you enlisted, how were you able to attain the rank of Admiral?" Penwood asked. "I didn't think that was possible."

"It's not." Ryan replied. "I joined the academy some years later when I figured out I liked the navy life and decided to go career."

"Why didn't you just join the academy straight away?" Penwood inquired. "Surely going in with a higher rank would have been to your advantage and you had plenty of time."

"Well, to understand my reasons for enlisting you have to understand the state of politics at the time. This was near the end of 1938 and the world was a powder keg just waiting to go off. I was young and dumb and wanted to see action right away. I knew if signed up for the academy I'd be stuck there for four years missing out. The trouble in the world was the peace following the Great War left many nations feeling unsatisfied. They were either missing their piece of the victory pie in spoils or felt victimized by unfair treaty stipulations. This was especially true for both Japan and Germany. Also Italy too to a lesser degree. But these feelings were slowly stewing, leading towards another conflict. Like most things, it started small. Italy invaded of Ethiopia in 1935. I remember my history teacher saying that the League of Nations would step in and intervene. He said that they'd set things right, but European politics interfered and when all was said and done the only thing that came of it was showcasing just how ineffective the League was at solving problems. The League ended up dissolving entirely in the years that followed, but that's a whole other can of worms."

Admiral Ryan took a sip from a cup of coffee Penwood had brought him earlier.

"Anyways there was also the rise of the Nazi party in Germany. At first, most people saw their movement simply as a natural reaction by the German people against an unjust treaty. A lot of Americans felt the treaty of Versailles was too harsh, but it quickly became apparent that the Germans had more in mind beyond just standing up for themselves. They were quickly building up momentum and heading somewhere bad. In 1936 they supported the fascist Spanish regime in the Spanish Civil War and through a great deal of material support, and _volunteers_, helped them win. That same year they reoccupied the Rhineland in west Germany, which was supposed to have been a demilitarized zone. Two years later they annexed the country of Austria and then did the same to the Sudetenland from Czechoslovakia. Emboldened by the limited response from other European powers, they decided to annex the rest of Czechoslovakia the following year. They were on their way to annexing territory from Poland when fate decided to intervene."

Ryan paused to sip again.

"In 1938 a red-tailed comet appeared in the sky and marked the beginning of a new era of human history. No one knows where it can from. Can you imagine? It just suddenly appeared in the sky one day. Astronomers were baffled. _'The harbinger'_ is what they later came to call it. It was like a red tear streaking across the sky, a foreboding sign of things to come. It was gone the next day, but in it's place the world was hammered by a massive and sudden meteor shower. As it turned out, Germany was hit the hardest. Their new energetic leader was killed, along with a number of his supporters in the Riechstag building. The German high command was practically wiped out overnight and that derailed most of their plans. It was one of the greatest mysteries of the century. You see, the building had been leveled like so many others in Berlin and around the world at the time, but impact pattern was different from other locations. Stranger still, while there was a meteor found at the center of the crater, it was found to be unlike any of the other fragments found in the rest of Germany. It had a metallic core and even more odd, it was magnetic. In Germany, there was initially suspicion of sabotage from a either rival nation or a dissident group from within their own ranks. There was a highly publicized investigation to get to the bottom of it. However, after months of questions and research they didn't turn anything up. Aside from the unique qualities of the meteor itself, there was little evidence to support any accusations beyond the incident being an _act of God_."

Ryan took a final sip.

"Overall the outcome was that Germany as a whole remained a rising power, but it's aggressive foreign policy became more tempered while they attempted to rebuild and held election to find new leadership. Of course the meteor shower effected more than just the Germans. Along with damaging cities all across the world directly, it also seemed to spurn some nasty environmental changes. One particularly large chuck of rock impacted in the Pacific Ocean and caused tidal waves, earthquakes, and a string of volcanic eruptions along a Marianas Trench."

In Asia, there was also trouble brewing. The Russian Revolution and civil war that followed in 1918 lead to the rise of a dangerous Communist dictatorship headed by Joseph Stalin. Soviet Russia was hungry to expand westward into Europe, threatening all it's smaller neighbors. The threat of France and Great Britain declaring war if the invaded Poland was about the only thing keeping them in check. The Germans had also initially made a non-aggression pack with them, but their new administration abandoned that treaty in favor of European stability. They recognized the Soviets as the greater threat and there policies switched to trying to counter their efforts.

In the Far East, the Empire of Japan had conquered Korea and the Northern part of China and were fighting a war with the Chinese Nationalists and Communists to conquer the rest of China. The Russians and our own Government supported China against them, which was inching us closer and closer to a conflict with them. Tensions were already mounting before I graduated, but after I enlisted things got even worse.

Ryan paused.

"Well, that leads us to this, doesn't it?" Ryan tossed _The First Incident_ file on the table in front of Penwood. "Open it."

Penwood obeyed. The first thing he noted was a picture of a commercial freighter. It had a note under it. It read: Last known photo of the Eiko-maru.

"We didn't realize the significance at the time." Ryan said as Penwood read through the small article outlining the disappearance of the ship. "She just vanished without a trace. The Japanese company who owned the ship sent another to investigate, but it disappeared too. That's when tensions started to spike. One random Japanese vessel going missing was one thing, but for two to vanish in the space of a week was unusual and given the high tension that already existed between us they suspected the ships may have been attacked by a submarine."

"Matters grew worse a week later when a convoy of three US cargo ships bound for China disappeared in the same area. One of them managed to get off a distress signal indicating they were under attack, but the message was cut off before it identified who was attacking them. Our government assumed it was a Japanese retaliatory attack, but there were no survivors that could confirm it."

"With the count of missing ships up to five, both sides started to mobilized their navies. At this point I was out of boot camp and stationed in San Diego. After the convoy attack I was assigned to the cruiser USS Houston. Two days later, it was deployed to the naval base in Hawaii. A few days after that, the worst disaster yet occurred. A British passenger liner went missing with the same M.O. as the other attacks. There were American passengers on board as well a people from various European countries. In total, about 2000 civilians disappeared along with the ship. This was a major international incident and the final straw in Washington."

"In response, President Roosevelt ordered the Pacific fleet into action. U.S. Naval brass responded by deploying the Huston along with about forty other warships into the waters where the disappearances had taken place. They were convinced it was a submarine or a pack of submarines responsible. Our objective was simply to hunt them down. The fleet spit into three parts and the Houston was part of the task force to search the area where the first incident had taken place. It was in international waters, but it skirted some Japanese held islands. This was part of Washington's plan. There was a recently established Japanese military outpost located nearby on Odo Island. They wanted them to see our show of force.

"Our Cruiser, along with USS Chicago, led a pack of destroyers into a picket line to sweep the area while the Battleships Arizona and Nevada hung back with the carrier Yorktown. All the while fighters and bombers were scouting the area flying combat air patrol missions to spot any submarines that might attack the fleet. They never spotted spotted any."

"Once the destroyers were in position we proceeded to depth charge the entire area methodically. If there were any subs hiding below before we got there, there certainly weren't any after we were done. The operation went off nearly without a hitch. When we turned the Houston back to rejoin the main fleet one depth charge that initially failed to explode did so nearby our starboard side. It rocked the boat and sent a pillar of water up and over the deck. Luckily for us it was still far enough away that it did little harm. There were no causalities, but it did cause minor damage to the hull and a slight oil leak. It was nothing that would prevent us from pressing on and returning to port for repairs. It simply meant we would trail a bit of oil in our wake. We sailed back to Pearl confident of victory, or at least of having show our strength."


	2. Chapter 2: The First Incident

**Chapter 1 (part 2): The First Incident.**

"So the fleet completed it's mission to intimidate the Japanese, what happened next?" Penwood asked.

"Well, as we sailed back to port things on the ship were normal for the most part. There was however a lingering tension in the air. A subtle disquiet no one could put their finger on. I assumed it was simply battle nerves. No one was quite sure what the reaction from the Japanese would be. We were still in neutral waters and there was the possibility of being attacked. We had provoked them after all. Maybe they would do nothing, maybe they would retaliate? Nothing we could do but wait to see how things shaked out. All I knew at the time was there was something bad in the air and guys were on edge."

"The feeling only started to fade for me when I sat down in the mess hall. I met up with a good buddy on mine named Joe Meyers. I'd known Joe the entire time I'd been in the navy, straight from the beginning of boot camp until that moment. We were lucky enough to have been assigned to the same ship. He was in the bunk above me in boot and we hit it off right away. He must have been the most cocky s.o.b. I'd ever known though. A good guy, but more cock sure than any man ever had a right to be. I both loved and hated him for it. Oh, and did he ever love to talk. I don't think I'll ever love a woman as much as he liked to hear the sound of his own voice." Ryan chuckled. "The ladies loved him though. They ate up his confidence. It probably didn't hurt that he was a handsome fellow, the Blond and blued eyed bastard."

"Anyways, he was a couple years older than I was and I suppose I looked up to him. He always looked out for me. I remember while we were still in boot I told him I wanted to be a navy pilot and he talked me right out of it. He said that he had a buddy who was a camera operator who recorded carrier take offs and landings and that he'd seen way too much footage of planes either crash and burning or falling off the side of the ship. He said that it was way too dangerous of a job for a young fellow like myself and that I should stick with him on the deck. He went on and on about it at length. By the time he was done, I concluded that he was actually just afraid of heights, but he had also managed to make me re-think climbing into a cockpit. He should have been a used car salesman. Being the smooth talker that he was, he could probably convince a carpenter to buying pet termites." Ryan smiled.

"As we sat an ate it occurred to me that Joe was immune to the unrest that gripped the rest of the crew. He carried on like his usual self, jumping from topic to topic as he ate. I mostly just listened to him as usual. He was pretty confident that the Japanese would simmer down and behave themselves now that they had seen our ships in action. I wasn't so sure. Even with Joe's overwhelming optimism, I couldn't shake the underling feeling that something wasn't right."

"It took nearly two weeks to make it back to our home port in the Hawaiian islands. By the time we did, our mission had made headlines around the world. While it was fairly well received in counties like France and England who had lost countrymen in the attacks on shipping, it certainly did nothing to dispel the tensions between us and the Japanese. They still denied any involvement in the attacks and claimed that our ships had violated their coastal territory. To be fair, we in fact may have. We certainly got closer than we were meant to." Ryan noted.

"Still, there was no blood in the water and we had not damaged anything they owned, so the situation did not escalate drastically. The Japanese did deploy a fleet of their own to the area, but our forces had long since gone by the time they arrived and they knew it. It was just political posturing on their part to avoid looking weak. The world anxiously waited to see if there would be any more attacks."

"Well, despite not haven actually done much, we were given the hero's welcome when we got off the boat. Joe made me go out with him to the local night club just off the base grounds that night. Though I was _very_ under age, the uniform made it pretty easy to get in. Soon after I tried my first taste of alcohol. Unfortunately I had no tolerate for the sauce at the time. The last thing I remember was Joe talking to some local girl and by the end of the evening I was being carried into the base hospital with an acute case of alcohol poisoning. Some first outing that turned out to be."

"Ha, what happened next?" Penwood asked with a laugh.

"Well when I came to the next morning, I had an needle in my arm pumping in fluids from a tube and my head felt like it had been split open. My first thought was how I was going to punch Joe right in his perfect smirking face the next time I saw him. I felt terrible and I probably looked just as bad. It took me a little while to collect my thoughts and acclimate myself to my surroundings. It didn't take me too long to figure out where I was, but no one was with me. After so may weeks of constantly being around a boat load of guys, it was jarring to be completely alone. And there was something else off-putting."

"I wasn't sure if it was just a symptom of my first hangover, but I noticed something very strange that morning outside of my window. For about an hour straight I saw birds flying by, hundreds, if not thousands of them, flocking together and all flying in the same direction. It looked as though they were leaving the main island going to the next one over. It was really bizarre. I've seen birds migrate before on the mainland, but this was something different. Generally when birds flock together they are of the same species. What struck me as particularly odd was the variety in this flock. There was a little bit of everything I'd seen on the island in it. I had not been on the stationed there for very long, so I thought maybe that was just how things worked there." Ryan frowned slightly recalling.

"I didn't have much time to think it over. There was a knock at my door and before I even had time to even say, _come in,_ a young navy nurse was in my room. And I'll tell you this son: what a sight she was! I think my heart might have stopped for a second or two. I must have went a little haywire upstairs, because she asked me something that simply didn't register. She must have thought it was medical related, because before I knew it she was looking over the IV drip, checking to make sure there was nothing wrong with it. I felt a little embarrassed about it to be honest. She looked over the line and took my hand to see if it was leaking from the needle stick. I lost a breath as her hand touched mine and I suddenly felt like I was sitting under a heat lamp. I prayed that her eyes stayed down on her work."

"Well, nothing is wrong here." She said, my ability to understand English had returned to me. I had a second to caught a breath. "You must still be trying to get your land legs back under you sailor." She looked up and smiled at me.

"Uh, yeah. I had a bit of a rough night... I think... I don't actually remember much of it." I admitted jokingly.

"I bet." She chuckled back. "I was here last night when they dragged you in."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I hope I wasn't too much trouble."

"Don't be, you were a model patient. You did not complain or make peep the whole time really." She explained to me. "And you're the only person in this whole ward, so you've quietly kept me company my whole shift. I think you were pretty much dried out by the time they got you here, so there haven't been any messes to clean up. Otherwise you have not been overly demanding thus far."

"Oh, I'm glad."

"That reminds me, your buddy said that he was going to check up on you today." She added. "He left with a young lady after dropping you off last night."

"That sounds about right." I grimaced thinking about Joe abandoning me there. "I'd actually better report in before I'm missed, Mrs... ?"

"Miss... Baxter, but call me Shauna." She smiled at me again. "I think we'd better wait for your IV to finish before cutting you loose. It'll help get some of that green out of your cheeks."

It was about that moment I realized my uniform was sitting on a chair next to the bed, clean and neatly folded. I immediately came to revelation that I had in fact been changed into a hospital gown while I was unconscious and not wearing any pants. I felt ice run cold in my veins as I wondered if Shana had been the person who striped me down to my buckskins."

"What's wrong?" She had noticed the unsettled look on my face.

"Well, I was just wondering how long the IV still had." I lied, saying anything I could to avoid tipping my hand to what I was really thinking about. "I don't want to be labeled as AWOL."

"Oh, Joe said that he was going to smooth things over with your C.O."

"He did?" I cringed at the thought. Our commanding officer, Captain Turner, was a newly promoted, by the book, skipper and had already cast a sharp eye at Joe and I as a pair of unruly young sailors. While the Houston was out on training exercises, a tub of strawberry ice cream had mysteriously gone missing and the Captain had the entire ship searched from top to bottom trying to find any evidence of where it went. Joe and I had not left any to be found, but he had always suspected us. Now we had given him the perfect opportunity to come down on us hard. I knew I was going to be in real trouble once I reported back in.

"It'll be ok." She seemed to sense what I as thinking. "Things usually turn out better than how it goes down in our heads. You made a mistake that is minor in the scheme of things." My fear melted away in the light of her reassuring smile.

"You know, you are very kind, and I think..." _**CURRRGGGKKKKKKkkktttttt!**_

I stopped dead in mid sentience. I had been interrupted by an intensely intrusive noise from out the window in the harbor. It sounded similar to when a train first starts moving, a thunderous clacking of metal on metal. This was louder, longer, and somehow different. It was so loud that it echoed across the entire harbor. If anyone was still asleep in those early hours of the morning, they weren't anymore.

"What was that...?" I got out of bed and went to the window to investigate. I opened it up and looked out. I didn't spot anything unusual though. I had wondered if there had been a collision between to large ships, but there were none to be found. There was however an odd wake in the water nearby the passage that lead to the open ocean out of the harbor. It was big enough that when it hit the beach the water rolled up _**far**_ past the beach line and up into the grass by about 30 yards. "What the heck?" I sat at the window confused. "What could have caused that?"

"What's going on?" Shauna asked from behind me, stepping in to see out.

"I honestly don't know." I answered her. "I feel like we just missed something though."

That was when it happened. The moment my life changed forever. I stood there wide eyed and stupefied. Shauna's mouth dropped open. An enormous form rose out of the bay waters. It was bigger than a battleship, much bigger. I just stood there frozen, dumbfound by what I saw outside my window. 'It couldn't be real.' I remember thinking. I was still asleep and everything up to this point had to be part of it. What I was seeing was impossible.

Then the creature stepped into the shallows just next to the docked ships and stood there. It was perfectly still for a few moments. I didn't see them at the time, but there were men on the docks who had stopped in their tracks, just under the beast. Anyone within sight of the creature were staring at it not knowing what to do. The whole base stood still in shock. A forty meter high quadrupedal beast had crawled out of the water and was standing in the middle of the harbor, dwarfing everything around it. It looked like a dinosaur, but much too large to compare to anything on record.

It had several horns at the top of it's head and a single horn above his nose like a rhinoceros. It's face was long and drawn out, somewhat similar to a crocodile and it had rows of jagged, serrated teeth. It also had an armor carapace studded with long, sharp spikes. It's tail was longer than it's body and was likewise covered in spikes.

Finally, it started to move again. It opened it's mouth let out a roar that seemed to split the sky and shook me to my core. I remember my knees felt weak from vibration. The men on the docks went from shock to terror in that instant. Broken out of their trance, they began to retreat in mass from the dock area and out of the path of the beast. It moved through the docked ships an onto the docks. It effortlessly smashed it's way through the buildings in front of it. I could distinctly hear yelling and screaming at that point and I fell out of my own stupor. The reality of the situation was starting to take hold. This thing was really there and attacking us. People were dying. Mass confusion and chaos was unfolding outside.

I scrambled to get my clothes on. I knew I had to get back to my ship to fight it. In my hast, I unknowingly torn out my IV in the process. I was bleeding down my arm and onto the floor. Shauna stopped me as I tired to leave the room and threw on a hasty bandage. She ask me what we should do. I told her to make her way to the nearest bomb shelter and to stay there until it was over. She nodded and started for the door. I flew out behind her and got out of the building as quickly as possible. I realized as I got outside that I could feel the impact of the beast's massive footfalls as it trampled the base around it.

"How could something so big exist?" I asked myself trying to regain my footing.

I turned my head and spotted it again. It had made it's way to the oil storage tanks near the southern docks. It lumber it's way into them and they exploded under it's weight. I thought for sure that it had just managed to kill itself. A wall of smoke and flames engulfed it entirely, but to my horror and disbelief it emerged only a moment later. It simply billowed out a huge puff of black smoke out it's nostrils, otherwise it seemed unconcerned by the fire around it.

It continued back into the bay waters and the fire that still clung to it's body was extinguished. After it hit the water it made a B-line towards the row of cruisers in front of it. I realized the the Houston was the second ship in the row and the monster was heading directly towards it. I ran as fast as I could to get closer. I knew there was nothing I could do, but I needed to see what was happening. As I crested a small hill nearby the burning oil depot, I could see the main turrets on the Houston turning to fire at the approaching monster.

They fired as the creature got close, but they were in too much of a hurry to aim properly. Both cannons missed their mark and there was no time for them to reload for a second try. The monster was on them only five seconds later. The sailors aboard were utterly helpless against it now. It rose out of the water and came down hard on the cruiser. The Houston's hull bucked under the weight and was breached almost immediately. The Houston turned on it's side and started to sink.

"Joe?!" I thought bitterly as the creature swiped it's clawed paw at the cruiser behind the Houston and ripped it open too. From there it moved on towards the eastern section of the base leaving the other cruisers in the line untouched. It came back on land and toppled even more buildings as it continued to rampage onward.

At that point, I realized there were men in the water from the two destroyed cruisers. I found a small boat nearby. I jumped into it and started the engine. It was a slow vessel, but I got over to the men in the water quickly enough to make a difference. I helped the first dozen or so on board, but it filled up all too quickly. Worse, Joe was not among the survivors I found. But I had to put that behind me. I recognized that there was no way I would be able to get all the men still in the water aboard, but I found a long spool of rope and got an idea.

I anchored the rope to a clamp on the stern side of the boat and threw it out towards the remaining men. They seemed to understand what I was planning and began to grab onto the it. Before I knew it, I had about twenty sailors towing behind me. We were actually closer to Ford Island at that point, so I started towards it. We passed Battleship row and I could see the crews of those ships scrambling to get them battle-ready. Fortunately the creature was no where near them. It had shattered several more buildings and reentered the bay once again moving north towards the rows of destroyers anchored there. It sunk several of them without any difficulty.

By this time, several fighter wings had scrambled off of Ford Island. I could hear their engines hum above us as our little ship reached the shore. They dove down towards the creature an open up on it. The machine guns rounds hit home, but bounced right off of it. The creature barely seemed to take notice of them. After a second flight of fighters peppered it with bullets near it's face, the creature turned it's head and changed direction. To my horror, it was coming right at Ford Island. I had just helped the remaining sailors onto the beach when I realized it was approaching us. It was like a bad joke. I ran towards the airbase and found an unmanned AA cannon. The machine guns from the planes had not been effective, but I thought maybe something of a higher caliber would prove otherwise.

The thing lumbered back onto shore and I took careful aim with the 40 mm cannon. It took some doing to position the gun on my own, but the creature was slow by nature and I was able to line up a shot. I gritted my teeth and finally I fired. The shell zoomed out of the barrel and flew right into the creatures face. It exploded and I hooted in triumph.

The victory was short lived though. When the smoke had cleared I could see the my attack had done no obvious damage, and worse still, the creature had barely seemed to notice it. I sank into the firing seat defeated. There was nothing I could so to harm it. I couldn't even slow it down. Only then did I realize how very helpless I was against it. Futility had only been a word for me before then, but after that day, I understood what it truly meant.

I sat there as it continued to wreak havoc across the airfield, destroying several hangers and parked planes. I saw men crushed as buildings collapsed on them. One poor man from the ground crew was trying to pull his buddy out from under the rubble, but it was already too far late for him. I thought back to Joe and I wept. Why where we so helpless against this thing? There were fires burning all over the base and oil from damaged ships filled up the harbor. The base was devastated and I thought for sure I was going to die there.

An officer from one of the cruisers pulled me from the AA battery and told me we needed to seek shelter. As we ran across the shattered airfield, I could see that the battleships had started to move from their moorings and were moving to catch up with the creature who had made his way to the western section of the base. The battleships formed into a battle line in the creature's path and open fire at him at point blank range. I saw several 14 inch shells explode against it's hide.

Unlike earlier attacks, the main cannons from the battleships did do some damage. The creature toppled to it's side in a daze. It regained its composure and retreated into the waters of the bay before the battleships could unload a second volley at it. It disappeared into the channel and out into the open sea.

Thus ended the first incident.


	3. Chapter 3: The Battle of the Philippines

Chapter 3: The Battle of the Philippines

"The Battleships had managed to stop the monster, but not kill it." Ryan continued. "Wildcat fighter-planes continued to monitor it's movement as it retreated back out the channel that lead into Mamala bay. It was too far under the water for the fighters to effectively attack it with their machine guns, but by then dive bombers had been launched off the carriers in Pearl."

"Upon arrival the SBDs came screaming down and dropped their payloads right on top of the monster sending up tall columns of water, it just pressed on ignoring the explosions. The bombers continued to harass the creature until it disappeared into the deep waters of the open ocean."

Over the next 48 hrs aircraft continued to patrol the waters around the Hawaiian islands non-stop, just in case there was a second attack. Thankfully another attack never came.

In the harbor we struggled to pick ourselves up. The base was left in shambles. Roughly half of the buildings had been flattened in the attack. The list of buildings destroyed or damaged included hangers, warehouses, barracks, factories, half of the oil storage, and perhaps most notably, Naval Headquarters. Most of the top brass had not been inside it at the time, but we still lost a lot of officers when it fell.

We had lost some good ships too, but the fleet in general fared much better than the base had. The creature had sunk five destroyers, two heavy cruisers, an oil tanker, a troop transport, and two cargo ships. Also, a hospital ship was crippled and a third cruiser was damaged.

There was a silver lining though, no battleships or carriers had even been touched. All our capitol ships were intact, which meant we still had the main punch of our battle-fleet. Still, the outcome of the attack could hardly be described as a victory. The monster had done all that damage to us and we were not certain we had even managed to wound it. It was still moving quite well when it had elected to withdraw.

In the aftermath of the attack I did what I could to help. I returned to the boat that I had commandeered and fished out several more boat-loads of sailors from the oil soaked waters of the harbor. I dropped off the able men on shore and took the wounded to the hospital. For the most part I was calm, but fear crept into the back of my mind as we approached the mouth of the channel. That was where the creature had just vanished. I had a feeling of dread, imagining it's jaws snapping around our tiny vessel as we passed over the spot where it first appeared. My hands felt numb on the wheel and I felt dizzy. I wished I could go around that spot, but there was no way to get to the hospital by water faster. It would take too long to go on foot, the wounded couldn't wait.

I swallowed my fear and pressed forward. We passed over the suspect patch of water without incident. A minute later I got the wounded to the beach nearby the hospital. The boat slid to a stop as the keel pressed into the wet sand. I jumped out and helped a sailor who was too hurt to walk on his own. Together we made our way up the long walkway towards the hospital.

I got him inside and was shocked at the scene I found. There were bodies lined up in all of the corridors. Each one was covered with a white sheet and I felt utter horror in the depths of my heart knowing what that meant. I felt sick, but was able to keep a handle on myself. As I stood there staring, I began to understand that the world wasn't what I thought it was. I was seeing its cruel nature.

Coming out of my stupor, I realized that were were only a handful of actual wounded. They could be seen here and there amongst the bodies. Some had burns, some broken bones or crush injuries, and a few had been hit by friendly fire. I was bitter at the thought that we had only managed to hurt ourselves trying to fight off the creature.

I sat the wounded sailor in a nearby chair and a nurse immediately spotted us and came to examine him. I just stepped aside as she looked him over. Seeing her work on the man made me realize that I had not seen Shauna amongst the hospital staff. I felt a hollowness in my stomach and my skin chilled with cold sweat. The hospital was untouched in the attack, but I had told her to take shelter elsewhere. I feared the worst. I went from room to room dodging people in the hallways looking for her. Finally, on the fourth room I tried, I found her bandaging up a sailor.

Upon seeing her, I felt a weight lift off my chest that I had not realized was there. My anxiety melted away and I felt the urge to rush over and hug her. I realized that it might be improper though. After all, I had literally only known her for a few short hours. She barely knew me. What would she think to have a random sailor sneak up on her from behind and grab her? It would serve me right to have a foot stamped on... or worse.

In any case, I could see that she was very busy with her work and thought it would be best if I just left her to it. It was better to stay out of her way. What she was doing was important. The key thing was she was safe and I knew it. That was good enough. As I thought to leave, she turned and saw me standing there staring at her. I looked down not knowing what you say.

"Mark...?" She asked with a little crack in her voice.

"I just thought I outta make sure that, you know, that you were ok..." She didn't say anything back, but a second later I felt the force of something hit my chest. Before I knew what was what, her arms were around me and squeezing tightly.

"Oh Mark, I'm glad that you are alright. This is all so horrible!" I felt a tear hit my hand. "They've been bringing in the dead for the last forty-five minutes. I've been doing my best, but I'm not ready for all this."

"We lost many good men today." I replied. "I don't think any of us were ready."

"Why did this happen?" She asked sinking her head into my chest.

"I... I do not know." I lied. In my heart, I knew that it was our fault. That thing had followed us back from our mission. We had made it angry and it came to lash out at us. "What is important is what we do now." She looked up at me. "Just do what you can for whoever you can." She smiled at me with tears still in her eyes and nodded. My reassurance seemed to have reinvigorated her resolve. My own was faltering.

Not knowing what else to do with myself, I stayed helped her the best I could with the wounded. I was not that much good on the medical end of things, but I seemed to bolster Shauna's efforts and on occasion my strength helped to hold a patient down or lift them up. I certainly didn't save any lives that day, but I did manage to be useful. It felt good to be useful. It was a small penance for my guilt and my conscious demanded that I try to atone.

I would like to say I did it simply out of sheer duty and moral obligation, but the truth of the matter was I wanted to stay close to Shauna as much as anything. Just as I made her feel better, she was in turn making me feel more secure too. And security was worth it's weight in gold just then.

An hour passed as we worked away and before long I had blood on my hands. I had never had another person's blood on my hands before. I felt a little sick again, but kept it together. I rushed over to the sink and washed my hands, scrubbing them hard to get the blood off. When I was done I could still see some red under my nails. I couldn't seem to get it out, so I left it be. I thought maybe it was fitting that it should be there. I had been taking solace telling myself that I had not been in control of the situation and that it had not been my fault, but in the back of my mind I still harbored guilt.

As I stared down at my hands wrestling with my feelings, a sailor entered the hospital and caught my attention. It was Joe. I had given him up for dead when the Houston was ripped open and sank. He saw me too and immediately started walking towards me. I met him halfway and gave him a brawny hug.

"I thought you were a goner for sure, you bastard." I pulled back. "Were you on the Houston? How did you get away from that thing?"

"No, I wasn't aboard. I didn't make it back last night." He replied. I spotted a rather obvious hickey on the side his neck and put the pieces together.

"Well, I'm glad you're alright." I smiled at him. "Have you seen any of the other guys?"

"No." He hesitated and looked disheartened. "I hate to be the one to tell you, but it looks like almost everyone went down with the ship, the Captain too."

I felt yet another harsh sting of guilt. Good men, better men than me and Joe, had died in the line of duty. He and I had only escaped due to our recklessness while responsible men had perished in our place. The injustice of it was inescapable and harrowing. We deserved to be punished for our actions, but with the skipper gone it seemed unlikely that he'd be reporting our transgression anyone higher in the chain of command. If we choose to, we could walk away Scott-free, but my conscious could not tolerate the thought of that.

"Who do we report to now?" I asked Joe.

"I don't even know." He answered. "HQ is in pieces, the barracks is smashed, and all the officers I've seen are scrambling around with their own problems right now. I think for tonight at least we're on our own."

"There are empty cots in the basement." Shauna cut in. She had been listening in and had understood our most immediate problem. There really wasn't anywhere else for us to go.

"We couldn't do that, you might still need the space." I began to protest.

"If we do we can always bump you guys, but the stream of wounded has slowed to a trickle and the cots down there aren't meant for patients anyway. That's where the medical staff go when they need rest." She reassured me.

"We really don't have much of a choice Mark." Joe pointed out.

"Ok, very well." I surrendered. "Thank you Shauna."

A short while later Joe and I were laying in cots on opposite sides of the small room in the basement. There wasn't much to the place. It felt like a utility room, but cleaner. Not that I was going to complain, it was a quiet and away from the smell of blood and that's just what I needed.

Though both of us were exhausted, we sat there awake staring up at the ceiling. I was still on edge, stirring from the day's events. I had been playing what happened back in my mind over and over again trying to make sense of them. I looked over and could tell Joe was doing the same. My guilt had been bothering me for hours and I needed to get it off my chest. I knew I would not be able to sleep until I talked about it with someone and Joe was the only person I could talk to about it.

"Listen Joe, what happened today... I think that thing followed us back from the mission." I started.

"How do you figure?" Joe asked somewhat defensively. I think he suspected the same thing I did, but didn't want to admit it to himself.

"You remember the damage the Houston took from the depth charge on the mission? It caused oil to leak, right?" I continued undeterred. "I think it followed the trail of oil."

"Well how could it do that?" Joe countered. "The amount of oil would have been so minuscule that there would not be a enough for anything to actually see."

"No, but maybe the creature can smell things in the water like a shark." I reasoned. "Did you see how it behaved when it first attacked?"

"I was not there to see the first few minutes." He replied.

"Yeah, well I was." I continued. "It bypassed other ships along the way and went straight for the Houston." I looked over at Joe. He seemed pale. I think my argument had begun to persuade him. He sat there silently. "Listen Joe, I'm planning to turn myself in tomorrow for going AWOL. I can't hold on to this much guilt."

"I understand, I'll go with you." He replied.

"I didn't mean that you should too." I sat up surprised. I had not expected that from him.

"I know, but we are men aren't we?" He smirked. "That means we own up to what we did and take our lashes. I wouldn't let you go it alone."

"Thanks Joe." I lay back into the cot and rested until I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up and found that Shauna had crawled into the cot with me. I was a little shocked that she had been able to do so without me knowing. Either she was a 90 pound ninja or I had just been that tired. Either way it was nice to have her there. She was warm and comforting. I didn't want to move and disturb her, but there was little way around it. The cot was pressed up against the wall on one side and she was blocking my escape from the other.

For a time I stared at her. Her hand was on my chest as if it were trying to feel for my heartbeat. Her red hair had been taken out from her nursing bun, it stretched further down her shoulders that I would have guess possible. Despite the long hours she had worked, she smelled rather nice. As thought she could hear my waking thoughts she started to stir.

"Good morning." She looked at with me with smile. "Thanks for sharing your cot with me. That felt like it was the longest shift ever." She got out of the cot and walked over to the nearby sink. She splashed some water on her face and wiped off the water with a towel. I only watched as she neatly put her hair back up again. "Hey, come over here." She looked back to me in the mirror. I obeyed, joining her at the sink. "This has been driving me crazy since last night." She took my hands and put them under the facet. "I would have done this earlier, but you looked like you needed the rest." She took a special brush and proceeded to scrub underneath my nails to get the particles of blood out from under them. Her hands were gentile, but the brush was a bit abrasive. I did not complain though, it was clearly necessary. As she cleaned my hands I almost felt absolved. "There, all finished."

"Ah, thanks." I blushed.

"I have to go back up and check on a few things upstairs." She began to leave. "I suspect you have business of your own to attend to."

"Yeah, that's right." I replied "Hey, thanks for everything, I don't know how to repay you."

"Dinner sometime this week would be a great start." She said from the doorway. "You'll find my number hidden in your hat. Reach out to me once you've gotten all your business all sorted out." She had gotten halfway down the hallway before I could even sort out a response. Upon inspection she had indeed left a note in my hat with a number and address to find her.

"Way to go buddy, there's hope for you yet." Joe commented, his eyes still close from pretending to be asleep.

"Don't read too much into it." I frowned at him for listening in.

"Relax, I was still awake when she came in. I know nothing happened." He smirked. "Still, I'd say she's taken quite the liking to you. You must have done something special to earn her affection."

"Yeah, I suppose so." I smiled.

Joe and I wasted little time from there. We learned in light of HQ being smashed into kindling that command had put down temporary roots in the recruitment administration building. We reported in and were referred to the makeshift office of Commander Jon Franklin for our orders. Upon arrival at his door we were met there by a slew of men waiting in line to speak to him. There was little other choice but to wait outside for an hour while the steam of sailors entered and exited in somewhat rapid secession.

When our turn finally came we entered the office to find the Commander waiting. Commander Franklin seemed like the standard career navy man. He was stern and proper, but it was clear that the events of the last twenty-four hrs had taken there toll on him. He had bags under his eyes, which indicated that he had not sleep since the attack.

He invited us to sit while he reviewed our files. As he was reading through them, I attempted to report myself for going AWOL, but the Commander was not in the mood to hear about it. He shut me down immediately and dismissed the infraction outright. It surprised me at the time, but in the scheme of things I guess I understand it now. The man had much bigger things going on. I could see that he had a long list of names on a clip board and a stack of files on his desk that was over a foot high. I correctly guessed it was all the sailors who had been displaced by the attack.

After shouting me down he read through our files for a few more moments, wrote down a couple of notes, and before I knew it he was transferring both Joe and I to a new post. He made it clear he had no time for _common sailor malarkey_. His only priority was to reorganize the ranks back into fighting units as quickly as possible.

He informed the two of us that the carrier USS Enterprise had lost some of it's crewmen who were on shore-leave during he attack and since we didn't have a ship of our own to return, and because we could preform the same duties, that we'd be reassigned to replace them effective immediately. It was as simple as that. He then informed us that the carrier would be leaving port by that evening.

Orders had come down from the top. They wanted any ships capable of leaving Pearl out as soon as possible so they wouldn't be sitting ducks if a second attack came. As such, We were to report to the Enterprise immediately. From there Commander Franklin dismissed us from his office. As we were walking out the Commander mentioned one last thing, almost as an afterthought. He said that he had received reports of my actions during and after the attack and that I would being put in for a commendation for it.

With that, he shooed us out of his office so he could move on to the next group of sailors in line. As we got back into the hallway my head was spinning. In the space of three minutes everything had changed. I had been expecting to be escorted to the brig, instead we were being transferred to Flagship of the Pacific Fleet. Funny how life works out sometimes.

It wasn't all roses though. We were on an tight timetable and I only had enough time to write a brief letter to Shauna explaining my reassignment. I also let her know how much I regretted that I would not be able to take her up on her dinner offer. At that point I would have gladly spent a few days in the brig if it meant I could have stayed to explain it to her in person. I did however promise to take her out as so as I returned to port and that I would write her frequently in the meantime.

As I put in the letter into the post I just hoped it would be enough and that she'd understand.

Following the attack, it didn't take too long for word to spread. Papers all over the world ran headlines declaring the shocking incident. People did not know what to make of the news. Most of the foreign powers dismissed it as some type of ruse, it sounded too outlandish to be real. People in the States were also understandably skeptical until photos taken by plane of the monster during the attack were made public. The mood of the nation shifted from disbelief to terror as the realization of such a monster's existence sunk in.

On the military side of things, the creature's disappearance was frustrating. He had hit us hard and then vanished before we could hit him back. We proved that naval cannons could hurt it, but finding another opportunity to utilize them was proving fruitless. Weeks had gone by without another sighting. The public started to wonder if we had in fact mortally wounded the beast. Newspaper articles ran piece after piece reassuring the common people they were safe. This was in part due to prodding by good old Uncle Sam to help keep people calm and prevent a panic.

I knew better than to believe the stories though. I had seen what it could do first hand and I knew that it was not done. Most of the other sailors on the Enterprise didn't think it was dead either, but they had a different attitude about it. The enlisted men started to joke that we had given it such a thrashing that it would never again dare show it's face in our waters.

The hubris of those men didn't last long though. Three weeks after the attack at Pearl the creature reappeared and landed in the Caroline Islands. It wiped out three villages before disappearing back into the Ocean. Our fleet was still closely patrolling the waters near Pearl, so we were far out of position to do anything about it.

Within two days another Japanese cargo ship was destroyed, followed by a British one the next day. The monster was no longer just hitting shipping within it's own territorial waters. It was making it's presence felt all over the Pacific and becoming a menace to anything afloat or near a coastline.

By this time, the Japanese had enough. They sent out a a major naval task force to hunt it down. The task force was split into two divisions. The first division was lead by the carriers Kaga, Akagi, and Shokaku. They were supported by the battleships Hiei, Kongo, Nagato, and Fuso. Additionally they were further supported by 4 heavy cruisers, 3 light cruisers, and eighteen destroyers. The second division was lead by the carriers Zuikaku, Hiryu, and Soryu. They were supported by the battleships Kiris, Haruna, and Yamashiro. In addition, there were 4 heavy cruisers, 1 light cruiser, and sixteen destroyers. Together they were the cream of the Japanese Imperial Fleet and were spoiling for a fight.

On December 21st the Japanese fleet descended on the last known location of the monster. They searched for two days and found nothing. On the night of December 23rd their prey found them. The monster who had been dubbed Angirus sunk the carriers Hiryu and Zuikaku, the battleship Kiris, the Heavy Cruisers Myoko and Nachi, the light cruiser Oi, and 8 destroyers. It was a was a staggering defeat to the Japanese navy and a huge blow to their national honor as a whole.

The 2nd carrier division was forced to retreat home by the next morning. Undeterred by their comrades defeat, the 1st carrier division located and counterattacked Angirus around noon the next day. The battle by daylight went far better for the Japanese, as they were able to coordinate their warplanes and surface ships, however they still lost the cruisers Agano, Haguro, Yahagi, and five more destroyers. On the other side of it Angirus had absorbed enough shells, torpedoes and bombs to sink three battleships.

By the end of the day, the Japanese elected to make a strategic withdraw from the area, wishing to avoid being attacked in the dark like the night before. It was unclear if they had managed to inflict any serious damage to the monster, but they had managed to at least make a fight of it to restore their damaged pride.

The Japanese fleet regrouped and returned to their home ports. On arrival they dug in and waited to see if Angirus would dare follow them. They had expected a follow up attack from the monster similar to how it had followed our fleet back to Pearl, but this was not the case. Days went by and nothing happened. When it failed to show up after nearly a week we thought perhaps the Japanese had managed to hurt it, but in retrospect I think it simply could not track them all the way home. When Angirus's attacks resumed a couple of days later, it was clear that the Japanese had failed to strike a meaningful blow.

This was a terrifying time for anyone living anywhere along the Pacific Rim. No one knew where the next attack would come, or when. It seemed impossible to predict and was impossible to stop. The Dutch East Indies were the next place it hit. Sea trade in the Pacific slowed to a crawl as the attacks continued. World economics were inching closer and closer to the edge of crisis as only the bravest of merchant ships would brave the dangerous waters.

Shortly after the attack on the Dutch the "Hunt for Angirus" was on. Any power with an agenda at stake in the Pacific committed forces to the international effort. Ships from British Far East Fleet, the Netherlands, the United States, Japan, and France all began to coordinate in an unprecedented effort to track down and kill Angirus.

Unfortunately, the coordinating didn't seem to help all that much. Our ships simply could not arrive in time to catch up to the monster following an attack and it seemed to be avoiding taking on large naval forces following its encounter with the Japanese fleet. It was at this point that I decided to go to my c.o. and tell him about the events leading up to the Pearl Harbor attack. I suggested that we might be able lure the monster to a precise predetermined location to be ambushed if we left a slick of oil for it to follow. And as it could submerge and evade us at will at sea, leading it to shore it would be ideal.

My c.o. thought it was worth a try and took it to the Captain. The Captain agreed that it was a worth while idea too and relayed it too the Admiral. The Admiral, Chester Nimitz, thought it was a brilliant idea and ran with it. He was just as frustrated as anyone with the inability of our forces to pin down the monster. He almost immediately began to draw up plans. He looked to his charts and quickly found several possible staging grounds in the U.S. controlled Philippines for the operation.

After contacting Washington and getting their approval he contacted General MacArthur, who was in command of the army in the Philippines. The General was receptive to the plan and put his troops to work preparing defenses in the selected area on Luzon, the main island in the Philippines. They cleared out trees along the beach, placed obstacles to slow down the monster, built concrete pill boxes, placed shore batteries, moved in mobile artillery pieces, brought in a entire tank division, and laid down a six acre mine field. It took nearly two weeks to get everything in place.

Once the army was ready the navy enacted the plan. They started by send a oil tanker escorted by destroyers to Angirus's last know position. The destroyers dropped a barrage of depth charges and the tanker opened up its oil valves allowing a large slick to trail the ships. They wasted no time on getting out of area as fast as possible in case the monster was actually in the immediate area. As they retreated they carefully watched the waters behind them to see if they had elicited a reaction. Through their binoculars the sailors saw nothing and wondered if they had just wasted their time and risked all for nothing.

A few days later the ships reached the Philippine coast and the tanker shut off its valves. On the shore troops pumped out oil from lines that had been placed on the beach. The current in the water connected the trail of oil to the one in the ocean. With their job complete the ships withdrew.

Admiral Nimitz had the strength of our fleet hidden away, lying in wait for the monster. The warships were positioned in the west, just around the northern most tip of Luzon nearby the city of Santa Ana. The battle-zone was located on the other side of the tip in the east. When Angirus made landfall the fleet could easily swing around the coast and prevent it from escaping back into the sea.

The army's forces on the shore were dug in and ready, the air force had created a makeshift base nearby to the south and was on standby, and the fleet was posed to strike. The only question left was would Angirus actually show up, and if so, when? The tension was thick thin in the air. There was an uneasiness that grew with every passing hour. The evening came and passed uneventfully. Everyone was starting to think it had all been for nothing.

Word went out the next morning the there was an unidentified sonar ping reported by one of the submarines on patrol on the edge of our defense perimeter. All commercial shipping had be advised to avoid the area and all of our vessels were accounted for. The submarine went silent ten minutes later and everyone was put on full alert.

For most of us, it could only mean one thing: Angirus was on his way. And indeed he was, minutes later it was reported by a PT boat sent to investigate that he was moving directly to the landing zone. The plan was working. Scout planes were launched from the carriers to better track it's movements and the fleet got underway. The monster would make landfall just as the fleet was coming around the edge of the island.

An hour passed and the scout planes reported being able to see the wake of Angirus near the surface as he approached the island. They were ordered to keep their distance and to avoid the getting the attention of the monster. Thirty minutes later Angirus had arrived off the coastal waters of Luzon. He proceeded forward, advancing towards the landing zone. He was close enough at that point that troops from the shore could see a form begin to emerge from the waves. Guns were leveled to their predetermined attack ranges. The plan was to let the monster get just off the beach before opening up on it with one massive artillery barrage.

The monster finally made landfall and the troops realized what they were up against, a living mountain of teeth, armor, and spikes. Angirus stopped just after stepping off the beach as if it sensed something was amiss. It eyed the trees that had been cut down around it to clear the attack zone and looked upward towards the camouflaged gun positions. It opened its mouth and roared a warning that split the sky like thunder. It shook the resolve of many of the men entrenched along the defensive line. In the command bunker beyond the line the windows rattled and the blood of everyone inside ran cold.

Angirus advanced forward and wandered into the attack zone. The general sent out the order to commence firing, but only half the guns opened up initially. Many of the guns crews were still too stunned by what they were seeing to react. After the first barrage shook them back to reality the rest joined in squad by squad. The shells arched in and for the most part hit Angirus on his spiked carapace. Some of the shells bounced right off and others detonated immediately on impact. The monster continued to advance just the same. Before long it had entered the mine field and began to set off explosion after explosion. It continued through the mine field until it came to the obstacles that were meant to slow it down, and they did, but only for about 10 seconds. It crushed them like they were made out of thin aluminum and moved onward. It got closer and closer to the defensive line until it was in range of the tanks, which opened up on him. Their shells mostly hit the neck and legs of Angirus, which were less armored than his back, but still had no discernible effect on him.

The monster was getting uncomfortably close to the defense line and men were starting to panic. Angirus was too close for the artillery to effectively target him anymore. The gun crews on the wings of the perimeter were frantically trying to preposition their guns while the men in the center were abandoning their positions. It was then that the hum of plane engines could be heard as the thunder of artillery fire died down.

The air-force had arrived with its bombers. There were dozens of B-17s and B-25s ready to pounce with their payloads. There was a problem however. No one had anticipated Angirus advancing as quickly as he had. He was meant to still be at the beach obstacles at that point. As it was, he was dangerously close to the army's lines, which put them at risk for friendly fire from the bombs.

The flight commander had to quickly decide if he should press the attack or abort. He chose the former and radioed his planes to proceed. Angirus stopped his advance and looked up at the sky full of noisy planes just in time to see the bombs begin to fall. A few painstakingly long seconds later the explosions started as 500 lbs and 1000 lbs bombs hit on and around Angirus. The explosions continued in a deadly line behind, on top of, and finally in front the monster until they started falling into the lines of the army positions. Anyone who remained in that section of the right wing was caught up in the explosions that followed.

Dust, smoke, and debris filled the air as the onslaught continued. A good portion of the battlefield was obscured. The explosions stopped as the planes finished their bombing run and for a time things were still. As the dust began to settle everyone could see that the planes had made some positive impact. Angirus remained largely undamaged, but the force of the bombs had knocked him on his side and he appeared to be having a hard time righting himself. This gave the army units time to regroup.

The reprieve was short lived though. Angirus soon found his footing and shook off the dirt the bombs had covered him in. He set his sights on the field command center and advanced upon it. The command staff evacuated as quickly as they could and with that any control on the battlefield was shattered.

Moments later Angirus smashed the tin building and began to work his way down the line of the right wing, destroying everything in his path as he went. A column of armored cars took off into the mine field to escape and one by one blew up. It looked as though the battle was lost until a single tank at the end of the line leveled its barrel and took careful aim at Angirus's head. It fired one shot that landed just to the left of monster's right eye. The shot had an immediate effect and Angirus stopped his tracks. It brought its paw up to its face and swept it around irritated. The tank let off a second round that was just a little more inside of the first shot, but it seemed like it was enough to convince Angirus that he had lost the initiative and it was better off to retiring from the field.

The fleet arrived just in time to see the monster angrily turn towards the shore and begin to retreat. All the remaining army units, primary in the left wing, rallied and shelled him relentlessly and the fleet deployed to try to cut him off. The battleships and destroyers moved in close to the shore to get their cannons and torpedoes as close as possible to inflict maximum damage.

As quick as the fleet rushed into position, Angirus managed to move faster. He crashed into the water and began to swim out of the danger zone. It soon became clear the fleet was not going to be able to trap him as planned. However, that didn't mean the warships couldn't get some good licks in. It would be several minutes before Angirus would be able to get into deep enough water to completely submerge and we would be able to pour in a lot of firepower in that window. Massive shells from the battleships quickly found the range and swarms of torpedoes were racking Angirus's sides.

Angirus finally managed to get under the reach of the battleship's main cannons, but his ordeal was not over yet. The destroyers dogged him as long as they could with depth charges, and given that he was still in the shallow waters near the shore, he could not dive deep enough to avoid them. Twenty minutes of relentless depth charge attacks finally brought the battle to an end.

Following the immediate battle the fleet continued to track Angirus for days over hundreds of miles until he reached the Mariana Trench. The monster disappeared down into it and beyond our ability to track him.

The other naval powers in the Pacific helped us patrol the area for months afterwards, but there was no sign of Angirus. It seemed like we had actually prevailed. After being hit by what the admiral described as an "Orgy of firepower" it was hoped that he had finally been killed. Angirus had certainly taken an insane amount of punishment in the battle of Luzon and at the very least we had scored an important victory over him.

Like most things in life though, the victory was short lived. We didn't know it yet, but the next trial for humanity was already beginning in northern China.


	4. Chapter 4: The Chinese Dragon

Chapter 4: The Chinese Dragon.

"Have you had enough for one day Penwood?" Marcus asked. "Should we call it a day?"

"Are you kidding? I have not yet begun to fight!" Penwood replied with a grin. "I'm eager to hear more."

"Well, I suppose these reports aren't going to sort themselves." Marcus groaned. Penwood got the sense that the mood in the room shifted. Marcus got up and grabbed the next file. He seemed a little unsettled when he sat back down. "Very well, we'll press on then."

Marcus quietly passed the file over to Penwood. He picked it up and saw it was labeled as 'The Chinese Dragon'.

"As I said, following our victory at the Philippines we patrolled the waters near the Marianas Trench fruitlessly for months." Marcus began. "Week by week our forces dwindled as ships were withdrawn to other more pressing duties. It seemed pointless to commit so much of our fleet when there were no signs of danger and our resources could be used elsewhere."

The Japanese remained a big threat. We managed to cooperate with them while Angirus was a thorn in both of our sides, but with him gone relations were slipping back to where they had been previously. The Japanese had taken more losses than we had fighting the monster, but they none the less were still trying to aggressively expand their holdings. They focused their efforts on the invasion of China. We did what we could to counter their progress by supplying the Chinese, but without direct intervention on our part, the Chinese were always going to be at a tactical disadvantage.

The day finally came when the Enterprise was recalled back to Pearl along with its entire battle group. Our task force's departure left only a token force out on patrol, but there was nothing for it. Command did not like the Japanese being able to keep tabs on our capital ships. They felt it was better to keep them guessing as to our whereabouts. I was personally happy to be heading for home. It meant that I would be able to see Shauna again after being away so very long.

I had been writing her every couple of days to help fill the void in my down time. I keep her up to date on what I was doing and let her know I was still ok. I told her a little about how the campaign had progressed. I assumed she would have heard about the land battle at the Philippines and would be curious. I left out most of the gruesome details. It was better that she not know too much.

On that account, I had overheard two officers talking about the aftermath of the battle while waiting to speak with Admiral Nimitz. They were discussing the causality reports from the field. They were grim to say the least. Nearly a thousand men had been killed or wounded. Twenty-four tanks were damaged or destroyed, mostly destroyed. Plus there were considerable losses in artillery, trucks, and other equipment.

While it was a victory, it certainly was a costly one. The officers said they had to bring in heavy cranes to pull out the tanks that had been smashed into the ground. Apparently when they did, what was left of the crews started to leak out from the cracks. After a few of those nasty surprises they debated if would be better to just leave the rest of the tanks in the ground and bury them. It was terrible business for everyone involved, I'm glad I was not there to see it for myself.

In an effort to avoid moral issues, only a small unit of select men were assigned handle that detail after the first day. The rest of the men were assigned to clearing off the remainder of the battlefield, which mostly involved finding and setting off the unexploded landmines. If they didn't, they risked civilians setting them off by accident later and that would be a public relations nightmare. So as dangerous and tedious as the job was, the army had to sweep the entire area clean section by section. They even swept it a second time, just to be sure. The surviving pill boxes were left in place, but the artillery pieces were recovered to be re-purposed.

When I finally got in to see the Admiral he was very pleased with the outcome of the battle. In fact, he told me that I was going to get a metal seeing as my idea made the victory possible. I was less enthusiastic about it than he was. For the second time since I entered the service I would be receiving a commendation I didn't think I deserved.

The fleet pressed on for a couple more days and we arrived back at Pearl. We came home to a crowd cheering us on and treating us like heroes. There was confetti, red white and blue flags waving, and a military band blaring _stars and stripes forever_ as we arrived. They really went the whole nine yards to make us feel welcome. I allowed myself to feel a bit of pride at the moment. American spirit is an intoxicating thing, but the high of it was short lived.

It wasn't long after we were off the boat that I got an unsettling bit of news. It seemed that I had been told wrong. I wasn't to receive two metals I didn't deserve. Instead, I was going to get five. It was all arranged ahead of time. They held an elaborate ceremony in the parade grounds. I, along with many other sailors, were decorated. Every man who stepped off a boat got piece of flair to wear.

They rushed us off to the ceremony straight away and started pinning us up. I personally received the Navy Presidential Unit Citation just for being on at Pearl when it was attacked, the Navy Unit Commendation for being on the Enterprise at the battle at the Philippines, the Navy Achievement Medal and the Navy Commendation Medal for suggesting how we could lure Angirus into our trap, and finally a Bronze Star Medal for rescuing those sailors from the water at Pearl.

The last one was the only one was the only one I felt good about. It was the only one I had truly earned. I suppose I should have felt honored for the rest too, but as the ceremony wrapped up I walked away I feeling mostly guilt. There were too many dead left on the field to feel anything positive about it.

Following the ceremony they granted us immediate leave and set us loose to do as we wished. I chose to walk the harbor alone. I observed the repairs to the base that had taken place since the attack. After a couple months of work, they appeared to be progressing very well.

Eventually I found myself outside of the naval hospital, it was not by mistake. I went inside and found a pleasant young lady manning the front desk. She smiled and blushed when I said who I was and that I was looking for Shauna. She told me that she was not there and that she had taken the day off. I did not press her for more information. I thanked her for her help and decided to try Shauna at home instead.

As it turned out I wouldn't have to go that far. I left the hospital I found an attractive young woman in a radiate yellow sun dress waiting for me just outside. It was Shauna all dolled up.

"You didn't wait up for me after the ceremony." She smirked.

"You were there?" I stammered out, taken a little off guard.

"Well of course I was. But I was in the back and you left before I could get through the crowd. It's not easy to move fast in heels you know." She scowled.

"I had no idea." I replied.

"About the heels?" She asked raising an eyebrow. "Well, I should hope not."

No, about you being at the ceremony." I realized a second too late that she had only been joking with me. I quickly tried to recover my dignity. "You look great."

"So do you." She rebuffed, looking up and down. "You look more grown up than I remember." I smiled. She always seemed to be a step ahead of me in conversation. She was sharp as a tack and didn't miss a thing. In those months at sea I had turned eighteen. I had grown an inch and filled in a bit too. I looked more like a proper man and less of an adolescent schoolboy. I noticed that Shauna also looked a little more mature herself. She had grown more beautiful and somehow even more self confident. Seeing her in that knockout dress probably didn't hurt my perception of her either.

"Well, seeing as we are both already dressed up and free, how about that dinner you promised me?" She asked.

"I wouldn't dare make you wait a moment longer." I answered. "Please lead the way."

Shauna took to me to her favor place, I had little choice in the matter. I hadn't spent enough time on the island to have the slightest clue about local restaurants, so I was at her mercy. It turned out she had good taste though. She managed to find a nice Italian place that felt a little closer to home for me. I sat and ate while she told me about all the goings on I had missed while away. It had been slower for her while the fleet had been away. She relished each of the letters I had sent her. They made her feel like she was a little closer to the action. I was glad that she wasn't.

She told me that she wished she could have written back to me, but we never stayed at any port long enough to allow for that. There were so many things she asked me about and I happily answered them all. That is, until she asked me about the one topic I had been dreading.

"So I hear you're the big hero now, impressing the big wigs and whatnot, how does it feel?" I looked down at my empty plate. She realized immediately that she had said something wrong.

"Well..." I struggled to find the right words. "The thing about that is..."

"Hey, it's ok. You don't have to say anything." She put her hand on mine. "Lets get out of here and we can talk about it later."

"Alright." I agreed.

We payed the bill and set off along the harbor. It was quiet for a time. The sun was setting and aside from my gloomy attitude, everything was perfect. I looked down at the water in the harbor.

"I feel like I should throw these metals into the bay." I told her.

"Why would you say that?" She stepped up beside me looking down at our reflections in the water.

"I didn't earn them and they are weighing heavily on me." I laid out all that had been burdening my mind. It was easy to talk to her. When I was done she took my hand and squeezed it tenderly.

"I understand how you feel." She began. "My father was a navy man too and he went though something similar during the Great War. He was on a ship that was torpedoed by a German U-boat. Only he and a handful of men managed to get on the lifeboats in time. Most of his friends didn't make it. They went down with the ship. He had been lucky enough to be on the deck at the time of the attack. I'm telling you this because I think you have what he had, survivor's guilt. My father went on for years dealing with it on his own and it tore him up inside. I'd hate for you to go through the same. I know it's not going to be easy, but in time it will get better. You can't blame yourself for your crew mates on the Houston."

"You might be right about that, but I can for the soldiers at the Philippines." Ask answered.

"Well, that is a different sort of beast." She noted. "But allow me play Devil's advocate for you on that. Now let me start by saying I don't agree that you are responsible for any of the deaths that resulted from your suggestion to use oil to lure Angirus into a trap in the first place, but lets pretend for a moment that I do. Given the circumstances, I think sacrificing a thousand men is the right call." I sat there in shock, letting what she said sink in.

"Has anyone ever told you you're pretty cold for a medical professional?" I said half joking.

"Well, lets look at it from a medical standpoint." She began. "If you have a patient with diseased tissue that is not salvageable you cut it out. And when you cut it out it is common practice to cut out a fair amount of healthy tissue around it to insure the infection is totally gone. It's a harsh reality, but there's no getting around it. Sometimes you have to make a smaller sacrifice for the greater good. So, as sad as it is to loose a thousand men, I think it's worth it when you consider just how many people might have been saved in the process. Who knows how many more people would have been died if Angirus hadn't been stopped when he was. Maybe, just maybe, the people who put those ribbons on your chest knew what they were doing." She smiled. I sat there and thought it over.

In the long term, the question of sacrificing men for the greater good was an idea I would struggle with for the rest of my career. It's a fine idea if you can just think of the men as numbers on a casualty report, but it doesn't account for the living breathing individuals lost. In the moment though, she had me convinced, or maybe I just needed to believe it at the time. Then and there she was a saving grace in a moment of uncertainty.

"Did it hurt?" I asked her.

"What?" She replied understandably confused.

"When you fell from heaven?" I mused.

"Are you implying that I'm Lucifer?" She smirked devilishly at me.

"Ha, let's go Lucy." I took her hand.

"Hey, who's Lucy? You trying to two-time me sailor? If so, I'll blacken yer eye good!" She always had to have the last word. But I got the last laugh in the long run. From then on my pet name for her was Lucy.

We walked on the beach after that. There was just a crack of sun left when we settled under a pair of palm trees. The wind was gently swinging the leaves above us and waves rolled in calmly up the sand. I made use of my former boy-scout training and built a small fire. Shauna seemed impressed by the minor feat, but she was from San Francisco and building a fire must have been something pretty far removed from a normal city girl's skill set.

We sat and watched the waves roll in and she told me about her upbringing, her family, and her city. I had never been to San Francisco, but it sounded nice. I told her I'd like to visit it. She told me that someday she'd take me there and show me everything there was to see. We talked so long that the stars came out. The fire kept the cold away, though the night was fairly mild in any case.

After a few hours of stargazing we decided to go back to Shauna's to have some desert. She had a made a chocolate pie that morning and it was hard to say no to that. It was well worth the trip. It was so good I had to have a second piece. After we were done eating we turned on the radio and sat on the couch listened to the news.

As I listened, Shauna leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder. I felt a mix of excitement and panic in equal measure. I felt woefully under-prepared for the situation. The only thing I could think do was to lean back towards her and rest my head on hers. I sat there with butterflies waging an all out war in my stomach and my mind racing in circles. I only hoped the chaos running through my whole body wasn't showing through on the outside. The sounds of the radio drifted away while I was lost in my thoughts.

A few moments later Shauna's head lifted away from mine and I frozen. I just stared forward for a few seconds, considering my next move. I turned my head to see her staring at me. Her green eyes fixed on mine. My uncertainly melted away as I understood what she wanted. I could see for the fist time that she was as uncertain as I had felt moment ago. We were finally on an even playing field. She leaned in and I instinctively did the same. I closed my eyes as we inched closer together slowly. After a second that felt like a hour our lips finally locked. In the moment I felt like sparks might have been flying out of my whole body. Lightening flashed up and down my spine.

The feeling died down and all that was left was the warmth of her lips on mine. It was nice, nicer than I would have thought possible. Something in me shattered and I felt real love for the first time in my life. It had eluded me up until that point, but it had finally found me. In the background I didn't hear the newsman say that there was a level nine earthquake recorded in Northern China that day. The only thing in the world to me at the moment was Shauna. We lay on the couch snuggled together and fell asleep.

The next morning Shauna was up before I was making breakfast. I awoke to the smell of eggs, bacon, and toast. I came the kitchen just as she was finishing things up. I wrapped my arms around her and embraced her from behind, being careful not to make her drop anything by accident. She turned her head and caressed my cheek with her hand in a warm greeting.

"Good morning sleepy head." She said with her typical smirk. "I was hoping you'd be up soon. Go on and sit on down, I'll be right with you." I did as she asked without protest, but she flicked her hair and hit me in the face as a tease anyway. Her hair smelled nice, like a fresh field of summer flowers.

We sat down together and ate. It was clear from the first bite that she knew what she was doing. I complimented her cooking, which she seemed to appreciate. When we were finished she changed clothes and we set out on the town to explore. I still had a few days leave and I wanted to spend every minute of it with her. I was completely enthralled with her. Unlikely myself though, she still had responsibilities.

After a few hours of running around she had to report back top the hospital. I hated to see her go, but there wasn't much I could do about it. I couldn't follow her around all day like a lost puppy. Not knowing what else to do with myself, I reported back to base. I wasn't there for more than five minutes before Joe found me and was pressing me for details. I tried to avoid telling him too much, but when you're happy sometimes it just comes bursting out of you. Joe swooned with all the pride of an older brother. He was happy for me.

Joe had news for me too. While I was gone a letter came for me from the Naval Office. It had 'somehow' fell open while he was holding onto it for me. It contained news of a promotion. I was to be raised from a Seamen to a Petty Officer, 3rd class. I eyed Joe for opening the letter for me, but it was hard to be mad at him once I had read it.

"Ha, I don't believe it!" I burst out in shock. "Down and give me fifty sailor!" I ordered Joe, reminding him that I outranked him now. I slapped him in the arm to make sure he knew I was only joking.

"I'll buy you lunch to celebrate." Joe offered.

"No, I think I'll take you out instead buddy." I countered. "I feel like a million bucks. I finally feel like things are starting to slide into place for me."

While we were chowing down Joe asked me if I had heard about the earthquake. I told him I had no idea what he was talking about and he seemed surprised. He told me that I outta have. Everybody on base was talking about it. It was the biggest quake on record, estimated at 9.6 magnitude. The old record had been only been about 9.0, set over sixty year before. He also said that the aftershocks were still going on.

I joked that it must have been one hell of a shake, rattle, and roll. He remarked that I probably hadn't noticed because I was doing too much of that on my own the night before. I gave him a sharp glare and he dropped it. After lunch I spent a few more hours with Joe, mostly just screwing around. We met up with some of the other guys from the Enterprise and I got to show of my new stripes. Joe and I were still relatively outsiders from the rest of the crew, but they were quickly warming up to us.

In the days that followed, I more and more time with Shauna and our bond grew stronger. I took her out to dance each evening and we listened to the radio afterwards. The news from the other side of the world grew stranger and stranger. The aftershocks following the huge earthquake had not stopped. The newsman explained that aftershocks would normally stop relatively soon after the main earthquake. At the very most they typically would not persist past the first twenty-four hours. It was now three days later and they were still going strong. Even more strange, the aftershocks seemed to be moving away from the epicenter of the initial earthquake, moving southward. That was completely unheard of. Scientists couldn't agree on why it was happening, but they all agreed that it was happening.

The epicenter had been in a remote area, so the damage to human life was minimal, but the aftershocks were hitting pockets of civilization as they moved further southward into the Japanese puppet state of Manchukou. Roads and railways were caving in all over the country disrupting travel and trade.

Manchukou had formerly been the Northern part of China. It had been conquered by the Japanese some years earlier and was being used as the staging ground to invade the southern parts of China that they didn't already control. The fact that the infrastructure there was being torn up was great news for us and the Chinese. It meant that the Japanese would have a hell of a time moving men and supplies south, but there was still an uneasiness to the unprecedented turn of events.

As for myself, I was downright worried as I sat with Shauna and listened to the events unfold. The radio reports indicated that the tremors were on a direct path towards the city of Beizhen, the main supply center of the Japanese army in Manchukou. Something seemed awfully wrong about it.

The next day, my worst fears were realized. The news reported that during the night a monster had appeared an attacked Beizhen. At first, they reported it as being Angirus, but soon the reports were amended. They said instead that it was a completely new monster. They were lucky enough to have gotten a couple of photos which confirmed that a totally new creature was responsible. A surveyor happened to be taking pictures in the hills nearby and snapped several photos of it, giving the world at large their first real look at it.

Penwood came across a page containing the first photos taken. In some ways it was similar to Angirus, which is probably why it had been misidentified initially. It too was a massive quadrupedal reptilian creature. The photos in the file were black and white, but there was a note identifying the color of its body as reddish-brown. It also had a horn on its forehead and what appeared to be armored plates on its back. The one thing that distinctly set it apart from Angirus were its large floppy ears that were not unlike a K-9s.

Two days passed and more attacks followed. Perhaps the most important thing set Angirus and the new monster apart were the results of their attacks. Unlike Angirus, very few people who saw the new monster lived to report anything useful about it. There were two things they knew for sure about it. First, they knew it liked to attack at night. Second, it seemed to like eating people. Each city or town had at least one thing in common, after the attack was over a sizable portion of the population was missing.

(Pictures of attack.)

The best documented attack was the first one. The monster attacked the military supply depot on the outskirts of Beizhen and then rampaged through the city itself, catching the Japanese garrison completely by surprise. Food stocks, piles of ammo, and a field full of tanks and other vehicles were destroyed. Once the monster had devastated the city it, started moving further southward.

Two days later orders came down. The Enterprise and her battle group were being recalled. The monster was just a few hundred miles north of the Chinese border and it was moving further southward every day. The Chinese were not equipped to handle a monster on their own. We were being sent to support them however we could.

The Enterprise set sail the following day. I had enough time to say goodbye and give Shauna a kiss before I went aboard. I wished I had a little more time with her. She remained on the docks below to see me off. I watched her from the deck above. She was crying as the ship started to move forward out of the dock. She hated the idea of me having to face off with a giant monster again, but there was nothing either of us could do about it. All I could do is wave farewell and hope I'd see her again soon.

In the time it took the fleet to steam across the Pacific Ocean the new monster had crossed the Chinese border and destroyed three villages before retreating back across the border into Manchukuo territory. As expected, the Chinese could do little to stop it. They hand thousands upon thousands of riflemen and some light artillery, but that simply was not enough for the threat at hand.

Across the border, the Japanese were still trying to get organized. They were having a hard time scraping enough forces together to counter attack the beast. They had lost a lot of equipment in it's initial attack and despite the fact that the monster was on land and huge, they were having difficult time keeping track of it. The creature would disappear randomly and then pop up somewhere else.

It didn't help that the aftershocks that had proceeded creature's appearance persisted long after its reign of terror began. They tore up the landscape and everything in it. Columns of troops searching for the monster would suddenly find the road the were using gouged and ready to give way, making pursuit hopeless.

Tracking the monster also proved difficult as the aftershocks that plagued the country made it hard to discern what was damage due to the monster's passing and what wasn't. A week before our fleet arrived the monster attacked the main train yard in Manchukou.

(Picture) -train yard attack

A week after the train yard attack, the Japanese were able to patch enough of their forces together to make a major counter attack. Reports indicated that the creature had been spotted about thirty miles south of the city of Shenyang. The Japanese wasted no time and rushed their forces in.

(Picture)

Unfortunately, they didn't understand what they were dealing with yet. They had assumed that this monster could be dealt with the same way we had dealt with Angirus. This monster was very different however and they were about to discover that first hand.

As the Japanese column approached the area their scouts reported that the monster had settled in a nearby plain, apparently resting. It had finally stopped long enough for the Japanese forces to zero in on its position. Scout planes ran daily flights to keep track of it, just in case it tried to slip away. Patrols were hard though, the weather had been overcast for days making it difficult for reconnaissance flights to spot the monster.

When the main body of the Japanese army was able to catch up they set up camp just outside the the mouth of the valley. They were confident in victory. The basin where the monster had chosen to rest only had one way in or out. The Japanese quietly dug in the night before sealing off the area and preventing the creature's escape. Artillery was placed in the hills and their tanks stacked up behind them waiting for the order to attack.

(PICTURE)

In the morning, all was in place and ready. The original plan had called for the Japanese air-force to make the first attack. The Japanese army's only job was to contain the monster. If it approached their position, the artillery would open on on it followed by a charge from the tanks. There was an issue though. The weather was not cooperating. The overcast night had progressed into a general fog by 0700 hrs. The soup was too thick for planes to accurately navigate the morning air.

On the ground there was enough visibility to see about sixty meters. The army commanders were confident that they would be able to handle the monster on their own since they had it penned in. After weeks of fruitless chasing they were eager for battle. They decided to proceed without the help of the Japanese air-force.

The order was given and dozens tanks poured into the valley after the monster they had dubbed Baragon. With it trapped and their armor closing in it was just a matter of time before the Japanese would have victory.

(Picture)

The tanks rolled down into the valley and raced to get the monster within the range of their cannons. Through the fog they could see the outline of its bulk. The gunners began to adjust their rangefinders while other members of the crew prepared shells. On the far side of the valley, Baragon stirred from it's rest having heard the tank's engines and the squeaking of their treads. It roared a challenge to the invaders, but otherwise held it's position.

At the front of the armored column, the Japanese tank commander could feel his teeth rattle, but was undeterred. He urged his men to be brave and to press forward into firing range. A few of the tanks slowed down, but none of them stopped. They dutifully pressed forward.

Suddenly the ground below the lead tank gave out. It fell into a deep crevice and landed on it's side, stopping it cold. Crews from other tanks had not noticed. It's sudden disappearance went unmarked. Most eyes were still on the monster, which was becoming more and more clear as they approached it. The column continued on, unawares of the danger around them.

Then another tank disappeared. Then another one after that. This time other tank crews did take notice, but they charged forward anyway, not understanding what was happening. More tanks started to fall through the earth, most being disabled in the process. With five of his units falling victim to the treacherous terrain, the tank commander finally signaled for all his units to stop and hold their position.

He popped his hatch and took a good long look at the ground around them. He could see that the soil had been disturbed throughout the entire valley and understood the pressing onward would only result in the loss of more of his tanks. He radioed for his men to fall back to their original defensive line. They would let the artillery and air force take care of the monster as soon as the weather cleared up. He instructed the crews of the disabled units to abandon their tanks get out of the holes if they could. They were to make their way to the nearest vehicles or to hoof it back on foot if necessary.

It was at that moment that Baragon struck. He thundered across the gap between himself and the tanks in no time at all and began to smash them one by one. In a panic, the crews tried to retreat, but in their haste even more of them fell into holes.

(pictures)

With his forces in shambles, the tank commander frantically radioed his men, attempting to rally them to stand and fight. To their credit, the remaining tanks turned their turrets and took aim at Baragon. Muzzle flashes lite up the patches of fog in the desperate fight. The artillery crews at the valley entrance could see what was happening and began firing their cannons trying to help their comrades. Unfortunately the monster was so intermixed with the tanks that their shells were hitting their own men as well as the monster.

The artillery fire seemed to enrage Baragon. His attacks became more feral with every passing moment. During the fight, an artillery shell hit him on the side of his belly where he had no armor plates. The monster roared in anger and thrashed ripping off the turret of a tank with his claws. Then something happened that no one was expecting, the monster opened his mouth and spewed forth flames. The flames engulfing three tanks that were in front of him. The tanks exploded as their ammunition ignited.

(picture)

With that hellish sight in front of them, most of the remaining tanks had seen enough and withdrew. The tank commander was left with just a handful of machines left to fight with by this time. He watched in horror as the monster was bearing down on his tank. The victory he sought, which seemed to have been within his grasp just minutes before, was now burning all around him.

(Picture)

The monster lumbered over his tank and looked down at him. It's sharp red eyes watched and waited just a moment before the monster brought it's jaws down the the steel machine, crushing it.

The Japanese were in complete disarray from that point forward. What remained of their forces tried to retreat out of the valley all at once and got bottle necked at the entrance. The vehicles in the rear were trapped by the ones in the front and were sitting ducks for the monster. Baragon worked his way up the line until most of the machines were wrecked. His used his flaming breath a second time turning the remaining tanks into steel ovens, cooking the men inside them alive. Moments later pops from inside the machines could be heard as the ammo went up, bringing the torment of the crews to an end.

The artillery crews routed in terror upon witnessing that and left their equipment without firing another shot. The defeat was complete and total. The Japanese had lost five hundred men and nearly fifty tanks.

Two hours later the weather had started to clear and the Japanese air-force was sent out to avenge their fallen countrymen. Scouts reported that Baragon had remained in the valley after the battle. He was eating survivors and corpses that were left behind. As word got out about it, the airmen swore revenge as they closed in on their target. The honor of the Japan itself had been besmirched by the monster, and they would reclaim it.

The fog had completely lifted by the time the planes arrived at the battlefield, which meant they had a clear shot at the monster for their attack run.

Baragon's ears perked up when he heard the hum of the Betty bombers approaching. The monster seemed to understand that the aircraft were a threat as they closed in on him. He sat there like a sitting duck seeming to consider his options. Perhaps it was trying to decide if its flames would be able to reach the aircraft, as it would be his only defense against them. The answer came only a moment later.

For the third time that day, Baragon managed to surprise the Japanese. Anyone watching expected to see the monster make a vain attack on the bombers that were quickly closing in above him. Baragon instead did something completely unexpected. He crouched down and began to dig into the earth with it's massive claws. To the astonishment to all present, it managed to disappear into the ground before the planes scored a single hit with their bombs on him.

It was only at that moment that the Japanese realized the monster had been playing with them from the very beginning. Baragon had chosen the valley intentionally to draw them in. They never had him trapped at all, he could have escaped at any point. Whats more, it was also clear that the ground beneath the tanks that had given way during the battle was in fact a trap the monster had dug for them in advance.

The beast was far more intelligent than they ever dared guess.


	5. Chapter 5: Terror in the Night

Chapter 5. Terror in the Night.

"Leaving Shauna for the second time proved to be much harder than it had been the first time." Marcus sighed." Before she had only been some girl that I liked and hoped that she liked me in return. I barely knew her when we had left for the Philippines, but as we sailed for China she had become my sweetheart. There wasn't a whole lot do do during the trip and after seven days going stir crazy thinking about her, I decided I would have traded an entire year of my life to have stayed with her for a few more days."

"Yep, I thought about her constantly. And I hoped she missed me as much as I missed her. I lay in my bunk at night thinking about what she was doing, cursing myself for not having the freedom to be with her. But unless I decided to jump off the Enterprise and swim the thousands upon thousands of miles of ocean that were between us, there was little for it. Besides, there was the threat of Baragon that needed answering." Marcus noted with a touch of contempt.

"Sir, can I ask you something?" Penwood interjected. Marcus nodded. "I'm just curious, why does Baragon bother you so much more then Angirus? I mean, by the way you talk about it, you clearly feel differently about the two. I can feel your animosity towards it just in tone of your voice. What's the difference, they're both monsters right?"

"The difference is simple Penwood." Marcus began. "Angirus was a creature that attacked ships, buildings, or vehicles. Usually only vehicles that fired upon him first. Human beings barely even registered with him. People certainly died when Angirus attacked, but that was incidental. He was never malicious in our encounters with him. In his case, people and things usually just got in his way. Now if you read through the reports and examine them closely, you'll find that it was the opposite with Baragon. If he destroyed a building, it was usually because he wanted to eat the people who were inside it. When it attacked, its goal was specifically to target people. It might seem like splinting hairs to an outsider, people died either way after-all, but when you are on the ground and experience it first hand, I can assure you that difference is very important."

Marcus stopped and let Penwood think on it for a moment, though he knew Penwood could never truly understand what he was getting at. It wasn't his fault. He was young and inexperienced. From what Marcus could tell, he had spent a good portion of his career safely in the bowels of the records room. He couldn't begin know what it was like to be on a battlefield and the horrors that come with it. Only personal experience could give him that understanding. Such as it was, Marcus decided to change the topic.

"Well, in any case, life aboard the Enterprise wasn't so bad." Marcus continued. "Joe was still with me and I had made some new friends among the crew over the months. The first was Teddy Goldsmith. He was a little greener than Joe and I and the newest addition to our gun crew. We took him under our wing and showed him the ropes. He was a nice kid from the East Coast, I forget just where from, but his accent sounded vaguely New Yorkish. He was kind of scrawny, even after all those weeks at boot camp. Joe and I did our best to toughen him up and after a couple of weeks he was starting to look ship shape."

We ran drills daily at our post, honing our skills with our five inch cannon. I wasn't sure what good it was going to do against Baragon though. There had been no sightings or reports of him ever coming within fifty miles of the Ocean. Water didn't seem to be his thing. Our the furthest firing battleships could only hit a target within a range of twenty-five miles with their big guns. The range on our carrier was significantly less than that. The biggest things were had aboard were the five inch guns and they weren't really meant for shore bombardment. Mostly they were meant to deter enemy aircraft from raiding the carrier.

Still, it couldn't hurt to be prepared. First rule of combat: be prepared for anything. Baragon had managed to surprise the Japanese a number of times and it had cost them dearly underestimating him. I figured it would be our flyers who would be doing most of the actual fighting. They had the range to reach out a couple hundred miles inland, hit their target, and return home. The higher ups thought Baragon would be vulnerable to air attack if they could just pin him down long enough. He was notoriously slippery.

Joe and I had grown pretty tight with some of the other guys on our gun crew. There were some real stand out personalities like 'BIG' Jim McClaskey, he was the loader for our gun from Texas. Then there was Nick Baker the Gun Captain, he was a little uptight, but overall an ok guy. We managed to loosen him up over time. Next was Jamie Boggs from somewhere down south, he was the powder man and he loved chewing tobacco. He could be a bit hard to understand, but good natured. Randy Garrison was a fellow from the Midwest, Colorado I think. He was the check-sight man and the funniest guy on the crew. Joe was the fuse setter, he stood next to me at our station. Teddy just helped move shells into position. I was the Pointer. It was my job to set the position of the cannon as the gun director ordered and ultimately to fire it. We were on the second turret from the bow of the ship on he left side. There were a few other guys too, but we were less close to them.

Nick, Jim, Jamie, Teddy, Randy, Joe, and I all bunked in the same area, so we spent almost all our time together. Spending do much time in close quarters has a funny way of bonding guys together. We thought that we were the best gun crew in the fleet. We were the fastest on the Enterprise at least, which was a pretty respectable feat. It gave us a little well-needed confidence to face off with what we were up against. Only Joe and I had a close up look at Angirus, so we were a little wiser to the reality of what we were in for, but even we didn't know what we were about to sail into.

Following the battle between the Japanese and Baragon, an entire two weeks passed without any further attacks. Baragon was keeping a low profile. Either he was worn out from the fight or just full up from eating his spoils. Which of these things it was, I could not say. For whatever reason though he was off the map. The Japanese were hoping to catch him in the open and attack him from the sky, but flight after flight of reconnaissance aircraft came up empty.

There was a silver lining in it though. The break in the action gave them a much needed breather to reorganize and bring over more men and machinery. Baragon had managed to cripple their ground operations in Northeast Asia. Given their losses, the Japanese had to re-evaluate their options.

Meanwhile our fleet had arrived and was patrolling the South China Sea. We were too far away to send out planes to search for Baragon ourselves, but Command insisted that we stay far enough south to avoid running into any Japanese warships. With Baragon nowhere to be found, they didn't want to risk an incident. Once he resurfaced we would be able to deploy accordingly.

As it turned out, something else was brewing to the north, something even more dangerous than Baragon. With everything on the mainland going to hell in a hand basket the signs had gone unnoticed for some time, but a strange series of events were unfolding.

The day after Baragon disappeared, a single Japanese fighter went missing while on patrol searching for him. It was assumed that the pilot had run into some type of mechanical trouble. The only clue they had was a brief radio message about a strange whistling noise and then the signal went dead. It was theorized that his engine might have gone out. That would have explained the noise on the recording. Debris from the fighter was later found. As they investigated the wreckage, it was not clear if the plane had exploded in the air or if it had simple crashed. What was clear was the fighter was found in pieces and the pilot had been cut in half. His legs and lower torso were still in the cockpit, but despite searching for hours, they never found the rest of his body. It was a gruesome crash, but nothing compared to what was to come.

The very next day, an entire field of cattle were found dead. It was a nasty sight, a horror the local farmers had never seen before. Hundreds of carcasses torn apart and left to rot in the afternoon sun. Upon examining the scene the investigators concluded that the bodies were in a state of decomposition which indicated the attack must have occurred a few days earlier. Baragon had still been active at that point, so they attributed the massacre to him and wrote it off. I remember listening to the radio report with the guys and thinking it didn't match Baragon's m.o. Earlier reports indicated that his ravenous hunger rarely left anything to be found and there were still plenty of pieces of the steer spread all over the field. Just as telling, was the fact that the attack had occurred much further north than any of Baragon's previous attacks. In fact, it was so far north that it was nearly at the border with Korea.

A few days after the gruesome discovery in the field, a fishing village east of Beijing was destroyed. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that it had been flattened. There was no sign of a fire or explosions, but every single structure had been leveled to the ground. The officials who investigated put the blame on a sudden powerful storm that blew in from the Ocean. That sounded like a reasonable explanation on the surface, but there was something troubling about it. The buildings had all collapsed towards the water. What I couldn't wrap my mind around was the huts had been uniformly blown over in the same direction. If there were indeed strong winds from a storm, wouldn't there have been at least a few buildings to fall the opposite direction and not in such a distinct pattern?

All the nearby trees were likewise snapped eastward towards the sea. I got the feeling something was awfully wrong. The path of destruction was also limited to a five hundred yard perimeter around the area of the village. I could almost be sold on the idea of a storm that hits so unilaterally, but for that same storm to also only hit such a narrow stretch of land? That was a little hard to swallow. It didn't seem scientifically possible. Still, no one could put forth a better explanation at the time and none of the villagers were left alive to tell anyone what exactly had happened, so it remained a mystery.

The investigators manged to account for most of the villagers. The majority of them had been crushed inside their homes at the time of the storm. However, when family members of the deceased came to identify the bodies and prepare them for burial, they discovered something else strange. A number of villagers were missing. A head count was preformed it turned out at least a dozen people were unaccounted for. Further searches for them in the surrounding area came up empty. One additional villager was found dead floating in the ocean, but what happened to the rest of the missing people was yet another mystery.

Two days after the village was discovered, a Japanese military supply ship en-route to the port at Dalian was sunk in the Yellow Sea. There had been no distress call. The few survivors reported being hit by a sudden tidal wave that was large enough to capsize the forty-ton ship, drowning most of the crew who were trapped below decks. The survivors had been on the far side of the top deck when the wave him them, so they had no idea where the wave came from. It seemed to appear out of nowhere. The sea had been calm on seconds before. The only clue they had to offer was the same strange whistle the pilot had reported just prior to his death. It was not clear at the time how the two incidents were connected, but it raised some eyebrows.

Later that same evening, a British cargo plane went missing on it's way to Hong Kong. Unfortunately it had no radio equipment aboard and it was over the Ocean at the time of it's disappearance, so there were no clues. It was simply gone without a trace. Whatever happened to it happened fast.

A small Chinese fishing boat did however report seeing a fireball in that area of the distant night sky at around the same time. They had also heard a noise, but oddly, they did not describe it as a whistle. They said it was more like something tearing the fabric of the sky along with a low billowing rumble. It was too dark at that point for them to have seen anything beyond the light of the explosion.

As I read the reports, I felt as though they were somehow all connected, but couldn't quite put together how. On the surface they seemed unrelated. The only thing connecting two of the incidents was the strange whistling noise. But two instances of the noise did not constitute a pattern. The pattern I should have seen, but did not, was that the incidents were happening progressively further and further south each time.

The night after the cargo plane disappeared, the Enterprise picked up an unidentified object at the edge of our radar range. It was roughly one hundred miles north of our position and was moving at an unheard of speed. We assumed that it had to be a glitch, because nothing on Earth was capable of moving that quickly. We were only able to track it for about two minutes before the object went out of radar range.

It was later calculated that it had been moving at speeds in excess of eight-hundred miles per hour. This was shocking to say the least. Our fastest planes at the time couldn't even go half that fast, topping out just under four-hundred miles per hour. We were aware of Japanese planes that could go marginally faster than ours, but nothing that could come even close to eight-hundred miles per hour.

Over the next twenty-four hours it was a hotly debated topic amongst the flight officers and bridge crew. The flyers insisted that something moving that fast wasn't possible. The bridge crew insisted that it was, at least if their instruments had been reading correctly it was. Just in case, the Captain ordered technicians examine every inch of the machinery. After a through diagnostic they found nothing wrong. Everything checked out as operating normally. This set the whole crew abuzz with theories, but there were still doubters.

The next evening, while off duty, I requested to assist the radar officer monitor for it. I wanted to be there to see it for myself if it popped up again. The Captain allowed it, he figured two sets of eyes were better than one. I sat with the radar man for hours waiting for the blip to return. Around 2100 hrs it finally did. It zoomed across the screen at an amazing speed. I almost fell out of my chair I was so surprised and excited.

Apparently it had not been a malfunction or user error, the instruments were reading exactly the same as the night before and our sister carriers Yorktown and Hornet confirmed the same readings from their radar stations. There was indeed an object moving at an unbelievable eight-hundred miles per hour.

Even more terrific than it's speed was the size. Radar back then was pretty rudimentary, so we couldn't tell exactly how big it was, but the blip we got was bigger than anything anyone had ever seen. It was huge and moving fast. The bridge was in an uproar at first, but the excitement of the discovery died down quickly as we started to realize that the object was moving southward, directly toward us. If it maintained its projected speed and course, it would intercept the fleet in about seven minutes.

"All crew to General Quarters!" The captain barked out over the ship's intercom. The whole crew sprang into action, preparing for combat. All across the ship's watertight and fireproof doors between bulkheads were shut and crewmen reported to their battle stations. Marines broke out their weapons and took up their posts securing the ship.

I ran from the bridge to join my team at our cannon. I had a bit of a head start, so I was the first to arrive. I strapped myself in and prepared the equipment around me as I had been trained. Joe and the others arrived shorty.

"Mark, what the hell is going on?" He shouted huffing from running. "Is this some type of drill?"

"No, something big is coming at us!" I warned him. "Get ready, there isn't much time!" I saw the color fall from his face when I said the word 'big'. He understood what that most likely meant. Teddy was right behind Joe and didn't understand. He looked equally scared as Joe none the less. It was going to be his first action and he clearly wasn't ready for it. No one ever is.

"Teddy, just focus on your job and you'll be ok." I assured him. Teddy managed to compose himself and snapped to. The rest of our guys arrived and within moments the gun was loaded and ready to fire.

On the bridge, the radar officer closely monitored the screen. The object had closed the gap to less than two hundred miles already. It was still on a course headed directly towards us. The Admiral ordered the entire fleet to turn right full rudder so that the battleships, cruisers, and destroyers could utilize all of their guns at the incoming threat.

As one, the fleet began to wheel right. At the same time their turrets turned left and their cannons raised toward the sky. It was a beautiful example of a synchronized fleet maneuver. From there, the Admiral ordered the fleet to push forward full speed ahead. Whatever was coming at us, it would have a harder time hitting moving targets. We were as ready as we could be.

Within the bridge of the Enterprise, they continued to monitor the huge radar blip. It was closing fast and would be entering our firing range within seconds. The radar man reported that the target had slowed and was gaining altitude rapidly. It had climbed to from five-thousand feet to nine-thousand feet and it was still climbing. This presented a serious problem. Our radar was only capable of detecting objects as high as ten-thousand feet, so if it went much higher, we'd loose track of it.

Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened. It crept up beyond ten-thousand feet and became invisible to our radar. No one knew exactly what to do at that point. We could have opened up with our AA guns and hoped for the best, but even with radar guidance, it wouldn't be very accurate at that range. Firing would also reveal our position on the water. We also didn't know what we were firing at. There was still a slim chance whatever was above us wouldn't become hostile if were left it alone. The fleet just waited, exposed on the open water.

We anxiously looked to the skies, but it was a cloudy evening, so we could not see what was above us any further than four-thousand feet. There was no noise. We sat in our positions weapons ready bobbing up and down as the ship pressed through the waves. The fleet had hundreds of AA guns ready, but at that point didn't know where to point them. Whatever it was should have passed over us by then, so it could have been lurking anywhere above the cloud cover. The tension was getting thicker by the second. The officers vainly tried to use their binoculars to no avail. Time went by moment by moment seeming to get slower. So much time went by that I started to think that maybe it had already passed us by entirely.

The clouds above us began to break up near the middle of the fleet and sliver of moonlight started to creep through to the water below. A destroyer near the right outer perimeter of the formation sailed through into the light. A moment later, the entire fleet could hear a high pitched whistling. It was coming from above and rapidly becoming more intense.

In a flash, the destroyer was cut in half. A massive object, moving too quick to get a good look at, had fallen from the sky and splashed down into the Ocean. The destroyer's magazine exploded from the force of the impact and lit up the night sky and the ships around it. The explosion was intense enough that I could feel the heat from it on my face seven-hundred yards away. Whatever had hit the destroyer was already far beneath the waves. The remaining pieces of the destroyer quickly sank.

The rest of the fleet bobbed up and down violently as a strong ripple effect from the massive object hitting the water sent a giant wave cascading outward. Men had to cling on for life and limb as the force of it bucked them from their stations. A few men were lost overboard on the smaller ships of the fleet, but the crews of the larger vessels fared much better.

The impact pushed many ships out of position and the fleet was in chaos as the formation crumbled. There was suddenly the danger of ship-to-ship collisions as various captains tried to regain control of their vessels and hold their courses. The Admiral called for a fleet wide full stop in an attempt to prevent our ships damaging each other. While there were some near misses, the maneuver paid off. The fleet slowly started to piece its formation back together and regain its cohesion.

There wasn't enough time though. Our attacker suddenly revealed itself from below the waves. It popped up in an explosive fountain that rained down seawater on nearby ships. It appeared to be some type of gigantic flying reptile. The creature was brown and had two large horns jetting out of the back of its crest. Its eyes were sharp and predatory like a hawks. In its beak it was still clutching the section of the destroyer that it had torn away from the rest of the ship.

The creature must have been dissatisfied with what its attack had brought it. It dropped the remains of ship back into the water and bellowed its disappointment. The force of its roar shook the whole fleet. Meanwhile, as I watched the section of destroyer drop, I noticed the spiked and armored chest of the creature. I briefly had flashbacks to Angirus, but this was clearly different beast.

The fleet struggled to maintain it's cohesion. Some of the ships closer to the monster steamed away from it as quickly as possible. Obviously their captains wanted to put some distance between themselves and the monster. Under the circumstances, I think they made the right decision.

One of the cruisers closest to the creature had men running along the deck in panic. The moment seemed to grab its attention. The monster's eyes zeroed in on one of the men and suddenly it struck out at him. In a flash, it had the sailor in its beak. Only the man's upper torso and head were sticking of the creature's mouth. He was there just long enough for the rest of us to hear him shriek before he disappeared down its throat.

After that, the shocked sailors across the entire fleet snapped back into reality and began to retrain their guns at the monster. Most of the guns were pointed in the wrong direction though and resetting them was taking time. As we swung our own personal cannon around on-board the Enterprise, we found that we were blocked by the island of the carrier. We were ready to fire, but had no shot at it.

The ships and gunners that did have a clear line of sight opened up on it. Machine guns rounds and heavier ordnance began to hit the monster on the torso and wings. Enraged, beast lashed out at the closest ship and punctured a gaping hole in the hull with its beak. Sea water began to pour in and the ship began to list.

At that point, one of the battleships finally got its main cannons lined up and fired. However, in the chaos of the fight, it missed its first shot. The miss had not gone unnoticed by the monster though. The thunder of the cannons made it turn its head and spot the heavily armed warship. The creature seemed to understand that the battleship posed a serious threat. It began to beat its wings and take off from the water.

It flapped its wings so furiously that it caused a destroyer nearby to capsize. The creature took to the air and started to circle the fleet. It was rapidly gaining speed, but now that it was in the air, it was more of a presentable target. The entire fleet opened up with their AA guns. Most of the rounds were missing, but there was such an overwhelming barrage that a few shots were hitting home. Most shots that where finding their mark hit the armored chest and wings.

The monster did not seem to care for that. It sped up even more, and as its speed got higher, we heard a strange pop followed by the whistling noise we had heard before. The creature must have been going at top speed, because we couldn't even keep up with it with our guns anymore. Firing at it became pointless.

It rose in the air higher and higher, still circling us and eyeing our ships sharply. It appeared to be planning something. Finally it came back down at us, diving right through the middle of the fleet, pressing it's belly down close to the surface.

Its path brought it directly over the Enterprise. A half a second after it passed over us, we were hit by the force of wind like a hurricane. I was lifted clear off of my seat from the force of the wind. It was like I jumped out of a plane and was free falling for a couple seconds. Fortunately, I was still strapped into the gun-chair, but very other man in my gun crew was swept from the flight deck and blow away, including Joe.

As I came back down into my seat, I turned my had to see what happened to them. I looked back and saw that the metal island of Enterprise was riddled with dozens of small dents from impacts and had red smears of what had been men. I realized in horror that the whole section of AA guns around me were near empty. Only the gunners like me, who were strapped down, were left. The rest of their crews were gone.

Above us, the monster banked left and disappeared back into the clouds. I don't know how long I sat there in shock. The Captain on the bridge announced that the monster was retreating back towards the mainland north of us and that we were out of immediate danger, but I didn't really hear him. All my friends were gone and little else mattered at that moment.


	6. Chapter 6: The Morning After

**Note from Author:**

Hey folks, if you've stayed with the story so far you've earned yourself a little reward for your loyalty. This story has pictures that go along with it. They enhance the story experience about 150%, so I strongly encourage you to check them out. I made them myself and am fairly proud of them. They are posted on a forum since you can't post pictures here. The only word of warning I have is try not to read ahead of what's on the fanfiction site. The story on the forum is about 2 chapters ahead at this point, but I'm re-working the story from the forum to here. I'm trying to clean it up a little and add some extra elements. So you'll get the better story experience if you wait to read it here. You'll be on the honor system since I won't be able to stop you, just don't post spoilers in the review section if you can't resist looking ahead. I was going to wait to post the link here until I was caught up, but I told some of the reviewers that I was going to post the link by chapter 6. I kind of forgot that some of the chapters over there were originally two-parters and I split them up into separate chapter here, so I'm getting to chapter 6 here faster.

**_EDIT: Actually, it won't allow me to post the link in the story, so instead if you want to see the pictures go to "_****_Toho Kindoms forum", go to the_****_ "Fan art, music, and movies and games" section. then Look for "Godzilla: Tactical Assault" there and you should be golden. _**

P.S. -It takes a lot of work to put out a chapter between setting up miniatures and writing. So if you are enjoying the story and want to see more chapters, a little encouragement in the review section definitely motivates me to work on this project.

**Chapter 6: The Morning After.**

I unstrapped myself from the gunnery chair and rose to my feet. My legs felt wobbly and I was unsteady on my feet. It was an ongoing effect of the adrenaline rush from my near flight. Slowly and carefully, I climbed up to the flight-deck to find it in shambles. As I made my way through the chaotic mess of men and debris, I began to find my feet again. Officers were scrambling all around me, assessing what had happened and how much damage the ship had taken.

Moving more confidently as the initial shock was wearing off, I found my way to the battle-scared island of the Enterprise. There I came upon the remains of a dozen sailors, all of them had been part of the gunnery crews. My heart sank when I discovered the remains of my friend Teddy among them. His blue eyes were just staring up at me lifelessly. It was clear at just a glance that his neck had been broken from the impact of hitting the steel plating of the ship. I stood there speechless.

'I told him that he'd be alright.' I thought bitterly, fighting back tears. 'He was just a kid. He didn't deserve this.'

My knees got weak again and I began to buckle. I had to sit down. I quickly threw an arm out on the flight deck to support myself and ended up putting my hand into a pool of blood. I stared at it for a moment and had the urge to vomit. However, I regained my composure and wiped the blood off on my pant leg instead. I looked around from body to body trying to find Joe and the others. It might have been too late to help them, but if nothing else, I needed to see their bodies for myself.

I realized as I searched that they were nowhere to be found. It occurred to me that there were a lot of other men from the other guns crews who were unaccounted for too. The few bodies that were still on the flight deck couldn't have accounted for even a third of the missing men. There was only one logical explanation; they had to have been blown overboard. Suddenly, there was a flicker of hope for my friends.

I was still feeling too weak to stand, so I crawled over to the starboard side of the ship to look over. In my mind's eye, I imagined seeing them all floating there, just waiting to be plucked out of the water. All I had to do is look over and they'd be there I told myself. However I was disappointed by the reality of the situation. As I peered over the deck, there was only dark choppy water there to greet me. Off in the distance, I could make out the outlines of bodies floating on the water supported by their life preservers, but they didn't seem to be moving. The small specs of men were just bobbing up and down with the waves lifelessly. Worse, the Enterprise was moving away from them.

Unknown to me, it had already been decided that the capitol ships were to change course and return to the nearest port for repairs. The Admiral didn't want to risk keeping them there should the creature decide to return for a second attack. Minutes later I heard the captain announce the plan over the PA system. The undamaged destroyers would remain to fish survivors and bodies out of the water while the rest of the task-force withdrew.

Hours went by like minutes. I watched as Marines attended to the bodies on the deck. I wanted to help, but couldn't bring myself to touch Teddy's body. The damage control teams were already seeing to the needs of the ship. Aside from some clean-up, there wasn't much for them to do though. Most of the damage was minor. The dents in the island section of the ship couldn't be repaired properly until we were back in port. They did wash off the blood though for which I was grateful.

We were still on alert, so I returned to my battle station. However, with the rest of the guys absent, there wasn't much I was going to accomplish on my own. The cannon was too complicated for on person to operate effectively. I didn't know what else to do, so I just stat there and watched the waves. It wasn't too long before the alert was cancelled. With little else to do, I returned to the bunk room.

When I entered, I saw only the empty cots. They were all stacked together tightly one on top of he other. They were three high, two across, and two deep; twelve all together in our section. My place was the one on the left center. If they had been occupied I would have been withing reaching distance of all my buddies. As I stood there I felt just as empty as the cots were. The room was deathly quiet. It felt like a tomb. Tired as I was, I couldn't bring myself to lay down in that lonely place.

I was awake for the rest of the night. The ship sailed on and I wandered the ship aimlessly. I couldn't get the imagine of Teddy's dead eyes looking up at me out of my head.

By noon the next day, our battered task-force arrived at the Subic Bay naval base in the Philippines. Repair crews started working right away, patching the fleet back together. Almost every ship in the fleet had taken damage in one way or another, thankfully most of it was light.

Most of the damage was a result of the monster's final pass over us. Some of the ships had loose ammunition explode on their decks as it was blown around. Two cruisers collided into each other having been blown off course. A third cruiser had more serious damage. It had a huge hole in it's forward hull from were the monster had gouged the ship with it's beak. The crew had done an outstanding job of compartmentalized the flooding, but if they had taken much more punishment, they might not have made it back to port at all. As it was, it limped back in with the destroyers that had remained behind to collect our men in the water. They arrived about two hours after the main fleet.

The worst losses were the two destroyers sunk in the attack. The majority of both crews went down to the ocean floor with their ships. Just over six hundred men in all were either KIA or MIA. We were lucky not to have suffered worse causalities, but it was still terrible loss and a great blow to moral across the fleet.

I pitched in and did what I could to help the repair guys get things back in working order on the Enterprise. We fared better than most ships had. The sturdy carrier had sustained only minor structural damage during the fight. The crew was shaken by the sudden attack, and like myself, were rattled by the death of fellow crew-mates. Overall though, the Enterprise was still intact and in fighting shape, ship and crew.

As the destroyers arrived in port, they came bearing good and bad tidings. While they had fished out a lot of bodies of comrades from the water, they had also found more than a couple survivors. Following the guidelines a more recently established naval tradition, they ransomed some of the Enterprise's sailors back to us for a couple of tubs of ice cream. It was well worth the cost.

As I came to see what they had brought back to us, I was overcome with joy to see them carrying Joe up the ramp. His arm was broken, but he was alive. There were others from my gunnery crew too. Big Jim was right behind Joe. He was helping to move another sailor up the deck on a stretcher. Jamie Boggs was on the other end of the stretcher helping out. Randy followed closely behind them. Almost everyone was back, except one. There was no sign of Nick, the gun captain. I ran over to them and they set Joe down off to the side so I could talk with him. I took his hand and grasped it tightly.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see that you're alright Joe. I thought the worst had happened." I told him.

He smiled up at me, but Joe was not himself. His usual overconfident demeanor was nowhere to be found. It was ironic, there had been so many times before then that I had wished Joe would wash that cocky smirk off his face, but at that moment I would have loved to have seen it. The whole world felt a little off kilter, something normal would have gone a long ways to setting my mind at ease.

"Nick didn't make it Mark. He drowned in the water." Joe told me somberly. "We went for a bad ride after that thing went over us. We were blown at least one-hundred and fifty yards overboard. I think Nick hit his head on something on the way out. I saw him floating, but he was face down in the water. I couldn't get to him in time to help him. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry to me for Joe." I reassured him. "It wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault. It was that thing at attacked us, It killed our friends. Teddy is dead too. I thought all you guys were dead, and that I was all that was left of us. I didn't know how I was going to carry on. I'm glad I was wrong." I looked around at the rest of the guys. "It's good to see all of you."

"I'm glad you are ok too." Joe replied. "When I didn't see you in the water I didn't know what to think." He looked like he wanted to say more, but couldn't find the words.

"Well, for now just get to sickbay and get some rest." I told him. "I have a feeling we're going to need you back at the guns sooner then later." He nodded and they picked him back up.

The monster that attacked us the night before had not been quiet following its raid on the fleet. As it headed north, it changed its heading and veered off into the waters of the Japanese home islands. The Japanese military had not yet implemented radar, so they didn't have the slightest idea of what was coming at them. The monster had infiltrated their airspace around Kyushu, the southern-most island that made up Japan. Its speed left a vapor trail that initially went unnoticed in the morning air, but its path was taking it directly towards Nyutabaru Air Base.

Down on the airfield, a flight of medium Betty bombers were being prepared to launch. In just a few hours they were going to be relocated to a base over in China. They were to be part of the renewed effort to hunt down Baragon. The warplanes were lined up all in a row and being fueled up. Bombs were being wheeled out by crews on the runway in preparation for them to be loaded into the planes.

The fueling truck had just finished with the last plane and the ordnance teams were beginning to hoist in the first bombs when a strange whistling noise could be head all over the base. The crews came out from under the aircraft and looked to the skies. Above them, they could see a long white band on the horizon. It almost looked like someone was drawing a thin line made out of clouds. They had no idea what it was. None of the men had ever seen anything like it before. They looked at one another confused. Was it some sort of weather phenomena?

The line in the sky suddenly turned and hooked around towards them. As it came closer, they could see that something was in front of he vapor trail and, in fact, was the thing causing it to appear. The air raid siren began to go off. Whatever was coming at them, the officers in the control tower decided that it was a threat.

Soldiers ran out from the barracks and started to man the AA guns at the perimeter of the base. Most of the ground crews wisely took cover in the nearby bunkers, though some of them stayed to watch as the situation continued to unfold. Pilots suited up and began to scramble to their fighters, but it was already far too late for that to do any good. Within seconds the creature was upon them.

The first thing that it did was pass over the base. It came in extremely close to the ground. In fact, it was so close that its chest clipped the control tower. Between the force of the impact, and the immensely strong winds that followed, the tower toppled over. The officers inside smashed against the glass as the tower hit the ground.

The fighters occupying the runway near the control tower were picked up by the intensely strong winds and scattered like leaves in the breeze. Some fell right back down to the runway and were crushed, while others flew into the hangers behind them. One of them blew up on impact starting a fire.

Within just a few seconds, half the base was a devastated. It didn't take long for the attacker to return. The creature circled back around and landed on the far side of the base. The nearby AA gunners trained their weapons on it and opened fire. It reacted by flapping it's wings and creating a surge of wind strong enough to blow away anything that wasn't nailed down.

The gun crews were striped off their machines and flew away. Bombs that had been sitting on stands on the runway began to fall over. Some of them landed on their nose and exploded immediately on impact, while others rolled across the runway, threatening to blow up anything they came across. Several bombs made their way into the sides of buildings before finally going off. The bombers on the runway became airborne hazards, tearing up anything in their path. Full of fuel, they spread fires all over the base as they were ripped open.

One of the bombers found its way directly into the main fuel storage. The tanks buckled under the pressure and the largest explosion yet rocked the entire base.

Nearby, two squadrons of Zeros were performing training exercises, mock battles to hone their dog-fighting skills against each other one on one. Leading them was Akira Honda, a veteran pilot of the Sino-Japanese war. He had been temporarily knocked out of combat, but was due to rotate back into the Chinese theater soon. He had been wounded in his left shoulder from a stray piece of flak some weeks ago, but it had almost completely healed.

He was only one kill away from being declared a flying Ace and getting his last kill wouldn't be too much trouble as long as he could get back into the fight. As brave as they were, the Chinese pilots were not as well trained and flew inferior aircraft. The odds were stacked high against them when they came up against an experienced Japanese flyer.

Akira had not seen any Chinese fighters for over two months though. He had been getting back into the swing of things for the last couple of weeks by leading a crop of fresh young recruits on training flights. It was a far cry from actual combat, but it wasn't so bad. At least he could feel the sky beneath him again. There was nothing else quite like it. A good aviator loved the skies as much as a sailor loved the Ocean.

Akira watched his pups execute the last of their maneuvers for the morning. This was to be there final sortie together and his last lesson. He was going to miss them. Though he hated the idea of being their babysitter at first, he had come to find he enjoyed teaching. No one was more surprised that him that he had a knack for it.

Akira hated to leave his students behind, but he figured in a couple more weeks some of them would be joining him at the front. He was eager to see what they could do in a real combat situation. He signaled for his flyers to get back into formation for the trip back home. They regrouped and started southward towards the base. After a few minutes, Akira picked up his radio transmitter and depressed the button to speak.

"Akira to tower, Akira to tower." He spoke loudly and clearly. "Come in tower, this is Tanaka flight on approach. Requesting landing clearance, over." Akira could only hear static came back over his receiver. "Takashi, can you try raise the base? I'm not getting through." Akira asked his wing-man. Takashi obeyed and waited for an answer.

"I'm getting nothing back sir." Takashi reported. "Could they be having issues with their radio?"

"It's possible." Akira shrugged. "We'll just have to get in closer and try again. If we can't make contact, we'll just have to circle until we are sure it's safe to land. We still have plenty of fuel and we should be the only thing up in the air at this point anyway. The bombers aren't supposed to take off for another two hours yet and I'm supposed to be with them when they do."

"Captain Akira, the base!" One of the junior pilots cut in frantically.

Akira looked up to see a huge ploom of smoke rising over three-hundred feet into the air in front of them. The airbase was on fire. As they flew in closer they could make out the carnage below. The fuel storage had gone up and five smaller fires were burning all over. Parked planes had been turned over and were scattered everywhere. Not a single building was left undamaged.

"Sir, What happened?!" Takashi asked.

"Looks to be a raid of some sort." Akira answered. He could see that bombs had cratered a portion of the runway. He knew that the Americans had brought a carrier force to the area. His eyes narrowed. "Attention Tanaka flight. Be on your guard, the base has been attacked and we have to assume the attackers are still in the area. Keep your eyes peeled for enemy planes."

Within his Zero, Takashi looked to his left and then his right. Nothing could be seen. If there were enemy aircraft in the area, they were nowhere to be found. Just then there was the flash of a shadow above him. Takashi tried to look up, but the sun was directly in his line of sight. There was something up above him 10 o'clock high, but it kept itself directly in line with the sun so he couldn't see it.

"Akira...!" Takashi began, but it was already too late.

**KA-BOOoommmmmmmm-!**

Takashi's fighter was hit and blew into a hundred pieces that fell from the sky burning. Akira turned to see what happened, but it was all over in a split second. Whatever had hit Takashi's plane was already gone. A moment later, the entire flight group could hear a thunderous noise that resembled thunder. The fighters vibrated as the blast wave hit them. One of the other fighters that had been following behind Takashi's suddenly lost control as it passed through the path of where his fighter had been. It spun about as if it were caught up in a whirl wind. It was Goro's plane.

"Goro, bail out!" Akira radioed to him. "Goro, bail out!" He repeated, but he could see that Goro was pinned to his seat as his fighter continued to tumble out of the sky. 'What the hell is going on!?' Akira thought to himself. Suddenly he heard a pop from behind him. A third fighter was going down, this one was on fire. Something had cut off the right wing of the plane. This time it was Kobayashi. He was able to bail out and Akira caught a glance at what had attacked him.

A pair of giant brown wings rose over the fighter planes and banked in a barrel loop up and around the flight group. It came around and started back towards them again.

"Break formation!" Akira barked over the radio. "Squadron one, break right, squadron two, break left with me. The fighters began to maneuver out of the way, but one of them got caught as it did. Sharp talons on the feet of the creature plucked it out of the sky and crushed it. The pilot didn't have any chance of escape. Akira wasn't sure who it was. At that point everything had turned into pure chaos.

Whatever the thing was, it was larger, faster, and more maneuverable than their planes were by a long shot. Akira knew if they were going to have any chance against it they'd have to pull together and take it on as a group. They still had enough planes left to make a fight of it. He quickly issued out his orders to both squadrons and they moved into position.

With its last kill, the creature had lost much of its initial speed. It was slow enough to allow the planes to get on either side of it. They approach from both directions, not leaving it anywhere to go. The fighters closed within firing range and opened up on it with their 20 mm cannons. Many of the bullets hit home, but to Akira's horror, he could see all the burning magnesium tracer rounds bouncing off the beast's hide. Their machine guns appeared to be useless again it. Only then Akira realized just how bad their situation truly was.

"All fighters break off!" He shouted into his mic, but it was already too late. The monster changed its course and went for the second group of fighters that were approaching it. It began to furiously beat its wings at them. The force its wings created knocked the planes off course, scattering their formation. Two of planes collided and fell from the sky.

"Honzo, take command and get everyone who's left out of here." Akira commanded.

"Yes sir." Honzo replied.

Akira turned his plane on a direct course for the monster and pushed his plane as fast as it would go, gaining altitude. He aimed his cross-hairs right at its head. He knew he had no chance of winning, but he intended to at least buy his men time to escape.

The monster changed course again, before he could fire. It was diving, closing in on one of the Zeros that had been sent reeling from its previous attacks. The creature had not noticed Akira's plane moving in from above it. Akira could see that it was already too late to help the other pilot. The monster flew directly over their plane and swooped down scrapping the canopy of the fighter off against its armored underbelly. The pilot lost his head along with the top portion of his aircraft. Akira cursed in his cockpit. Too many of his men had already died. He would not let it happen to any more of them.

To his benefit, the monster changed course again and was circling back his way. Its new focus was on the clump of retreating fighters moving off in the distance toward the base. It still had not noticed him. Akira opened up his canopy and pressed his stick down hard bring his fighter into a forty five degree dive. There was a patch of clouds that would mask his Zero's approach. He was going to put his fighter directly in the flight path of the monster. He only hoped it wouldn't see him until it was too late.

Akira locked his controls into place and said a prayer as he jumped out of his plane. The fighter continued on course without him and he tried to look back as the force of his free-fall was dragging him towards to the ground. Once he determined he'd gotten a safe enough distance away, he deployed his parachute. It jerked him to a sharp stop, the force the shook his own body like a rag-doll.

Akira struggled to see if his efforts had been in vain. He turned against the straps of his chute and saw his plane crash directly into the left wing of the monster. The fighter exploded as the remaining fuel ignited. The monster immediately had trouble maintaining it speed and course. In fact, it was struggling just to remain in the air for a moment or two. He watched as it turned and began to fly west out of the area. Akira cheered as he realized it had given up on hunting the remaining Zeros. His desperate gamble had paid off.

The creature came to be know as Rodan and news of its attacks on the U.S fleet and Japanese airbase spread quickly. Its appearance changed the political situation in Asia. It had hit two of the major powers in the Pacific in the space of just a few hours. More importantly, we went from a single manageable menace to two. What made most people uneasy was that Rodan, with his unbelievable speed, could conceivably hit anywhere in the Western Pacific in the space of twenty-four hrs.

There was still he very real fear of Angirus reappearing too. If he were to do so, we'd have a terror for the land, sea, and air. Such as it was, the Japanese called for a conference with all the major powers in the Pacific to address the threats. Our government agreed to it, but only under certain conditions. First, Japan had to agree to cease its invasion of China permanently. They agreed to this with little argument. With all the recent losses of men, material, and supplies to Baragon, they could no longer effectively carry on the war anyways and over the last few weeks, the Chinese had managed to throw together a huge counterattack. They had taken back a lot of lost territory while the Japanese had been distracted fighting Baragon.

The Japanese had terms of their own though. Their stipulation was that the United States could no longer supply the Chinese military with American equipment. The Chinese didn't like it, but they begrudgingly agreed once we had whittled down the Japanese into agreeing to only discontinuing the supply of tanks and warplanes. Small arms and artillery was to remain as it was. The Chinese agreed to those terms. The Russians were more than willing to fill that void afterwards.

As part of the agreement, we were able to talk the Japanese into allowing us to temporarily move three army divisions into China to help hunt down Baragon. They were suspicious at first, but eventually agreed to it. I guess they'd had enough of their own men dying facing off with the monster alone. Still, they stipulated that we were obligated to remove those forces once Baragon was dealt with. With the agreement signed, preparations were made and U.S. forces from the Philippines were mobilized.

In the meantime, the plans for the conference were also set in motion. Since all sides were still a little weary of each other, a neutral site was selected. The site they settled on was a small Chinese town on the border that had been occupied by the Japanese for months. It had been recently retaken by the Chinese. One of the big selling points for it was the airfield located nearby, which would allowed representatives from all sides to fly in and meet there quickly.

The plan was to bring in delegates from the various militaries, scientific experts, and I-witnesses who had seen the monsters up close to share their information and discuss strategies on how to kill them. The whole thing was set to last for three days and the site was already being prepared. Admiral Nimitz was invited/ordered to attend, given his experience. In turn, the Admiral insisted I come along as well, given the insights I had about Angirus, and that I had encountered Rodan first hand as well. I had misgivings about going, but was not in a position to refuse.

Prior to leaving, there was one matter we had to see to first. We had a military funeral to honor all the men we lost in the naval battle. There weren't many bodies, most of the men lost had been taken by the sea. I'm not sure if that made it easier or harder to accept the losses. There were only a handful of caskets to deal with, but I couldn't help but think of their families. None of them would have a body in the cemetery to visit, nothing to say goodbye to. Didn't seem right considering what their sons had given up for their country. The best we could do for them was send letters and flags and hope it helped ease their burden.

I thought about Teddy's folks. They would at least be getting a body back, but I doubted it would make them feel a whole lot better.

Later that day we went to the airfield, boarded a C-47, and took off for the conference.


	7. Chapter 7: The Zao-Ming Conferance

Chapter 7: The Zao-Ming Conference.

And so I found myself flying to China among Admiral Nimitz's entourage on a diplomatic mission I wasn't sure I should be a part of.

As I sat feeling the plane bob up and down in air I wondered what I was doing there. I would have been at more easy at my gun battery in the heat of battle than on that plane. I was completely out of my element. For starters, I had never flown before and it was a challenge for me to get used to. That might not have been so bad if I had someone to talk to as a distraction, but I was completely isolated. None of my friends were there. They were all still in the infirmary when we had departed. I was worried about them, which only added to my anxiety.

I did have company on the plane, not that it was much of a relief. A small squad of marines came with us as a security escort. They were a rough looking bunch and it was clear that they had seen some action. They were not like the fresh recruits I had known on board the Enterprise. Despite not knowing much of the details of their present assignment, they were calm and collected. Each of them were a couple years older than me and carried themselves as though they were prepared for just about anything. I imagined they had some stories to tell.

Only problem was they didn't seem too interested in talking to me. It boiled down to the fact that I was a naval officer. The rivalry between the navy and the marines was alive and well and that alone was enough to brand me as a figure of contempt for them. There was a general air of tension on the plane, which made the long flight seem twice as long as it needed to be. The only real interaction I had with the marines the entire time was with their commander. His uniform read Sgt Brock. I caught him looking at me once, seemingly studying me, otherwise I was mostly ignored by them.

They weren't the only ones doing their best to make me feel unwelcome. Admiral Nimitz's aide, Lieutenant-Commander Williams, also didn't like the fact that a low ranking officer like myself was tagging along. Perhaps he saw me as some type of threat, but whatever the reason, he was very standoffish towards me and also ignored my existence for the most part.

Just as well. Even if he hadn't decided to hate my guts, he was a ripe old prick anyway. In my short time in his company on the plane he managed to give off an extreme air of arrogance. This was in part due to his higher rank, but also largely due to what I assumed was his own natural personality.

He struck me as a person from an old East Coast family with a permanent stick up his ass. His accent gave the East Coast part away anyway. He acted prim and proper with his nose up in the air. It's a wonder that the marines didn't roast and eat him the way he carried on. He outranked everyone, save the Admiral, who was too busy looking over his notes to care about the trivial matters unfolding around him. My only respite was the marines hated Lieutenant-Commander Williams to the core, which made me blend into the background. As the flight went on I faded more and more off everyone's radar.

After what felt like an eternity on the plane we finally arrived at the airfield of Zao-Ming in China. The landing was a little rough, but I didn't care, I just wanted out.

I was the first to grab my gear and made for the exit. As the door opened I felt the breeze hit my face like a cool kiss. I stepped out and let the sunlight warm my skin. For the first time in many hours I started to feel alive again. The plane had been like a tin can being slow-boiled over a stove. I was a glad to have escaped it before it had finally popped from the pressure.

The rest of the guys followed me out and we looked around. The airfield was located just north of the town of Zao-Ming where the conference was to take place. I could see that there were already numerous planes parked around the airfield and decided that we were one of the last parties to arrive. Given the distance we had to fly it was hardly surprising that we were last. Most everyone else had a head start on us. It was the Chinese's home turf and the Japanese had been occupying northern Chinese territories for years. Even the U.S. Army and Air-force had established a covert presence in China. We had secretly been doing more than just than just supplying the Chinese in their war against the Japan.

Not long after our arrival a Chinese military truck pulled up. They greeted us and offered to take us to the village. We loaded up our baggage and climbed in. I ended up sitting next to a Chinese officer. He was one of the translators who was to help us overcome the language barrier during the conference. His name was Ling Yu. I came to find out he was quite the linguist. As he was the first person willing to engage me in conversation in about ten hours I latched on to him like a drowning man to a life preserver during the drive. He didn't seem to mind much. In fact, if anything he seemed to relish the chance to show off a bit, putting his English into practice.

Though he was only nineteen he already spoke seven languages including English, French, German, Japanese, Russian, Dutch, and of course Chinese. Being that I only spoke one myself I was both embarrassed and awestruck by his talent. His family were wealthy aristocrats and they had the resources to nurture his natural talent. He was learning even more languages, currently duel-studying Spanish and Italian. Since joining the military he had spent most of his career abroad trying to garner foreign support against the Japanese invasion of his homeland. I could feel his resentment towards the Japanese almost immediately, not that I blamed him. If they had invaded the States I almost certainly would have developed a strong hate for them myself.

We crossed a bridge that took us over a small river than separated the airstrip and the village. It was of course practical, but also a beautiful piece of architecture. I thought it looked at least a hundred year old at the time, though in retrospect, I very much doubt that it was. We soon entered the village itself and the buildings there were equally beautiful.

Having never left the States prior I'd never seen the likes before. My narrow view of the world opened up a crack wider that day and I was better for it. However, there was something troubling me and it quickly became apparent what it was. As we saw more and more of the village I realized it was semi-deserted. Only a handful of Chinese locals were present to be seen. It felt as though half the population was missing and I was curious why such a large town was so quiet.

The truck brought us to the front of one of the nicer buildings near the center of town. I could see the other delegations from the United States representing the Army and Air-force were situated next to us. They were in equally impressive loggings along with some civilians representatives from the government. I was not much into politics at the time, so I didn't recognize anyone in particular, but there was a man with a nice suit who I assumed must have been a senator.

I had a passing thought about meeting the President at the conference, but then it occurred to me just how silly that was. They wouldn't expose a man of that stature for this. No, everyone at the conference was someone who was expendable. The Admiral was probably the biggest VIP representing the States, but he was just one of many in the navy. If the man I saw was a senator he probably wasn't a high ranking one. There was a golden rule in the military: Important people do not do field work. So he was like the rest of us, someone who could be easily replaced if it came down to it.

Pushing that aside, I could see the Japanese delegation was being put up in their assigned housing across the street. It was far less impressive than ours. I asked Ling about it and he told me that there was still a lot of anger towards the Japanese. Their invasion and occupation of China had been particularly brutal and the Chinese people would not forget about it anytime soon. Though they were at peace now their minuscule loggings were just a passive aggressive jab at the Japanese delegation to remind them of it.

Ling pointed out that the very reason so many of the houses were left unoccupied for us to use was the fact that many of the former residents were killed or displaced by of the Japanese Army during the war. They had a well-earned reputation for not being merciful to captured combatants or gentile towards civilians. It made me wonder what had happened to the owners the house we were staying in. I tried not to linger on the thought too long.

After helping us unpacked Ling had to report back to his superiors to let them know we had arrived. Alone again I settled in and tried to get comfortable. I lay in my new bed just waiting. I didn't have anything to do until it was time for us to report in for the conference the next morning.

I stared up at the ceiling and let my mind wander. I was just starting to feel a little drowsy then I became aware of a rumbling sound. It was growing louder and louder and it was beginning to make the bed vibrate. I was alarmed rolled off the bed springing to my feet. I ran out my door and towards the the entrance to look out and see what was happening. The marines guarding the entrance were also alarmed and were no longer standing at attention.

Across the road the Japanese were having a similar reaction. Their soldiers looked agitated. I could see them pointing down the road to the source of the disturbance. I peaked around the door-frame and saw a line of American made Stuart tanks with Chinese markings on them rolling down the street towards us. There were about ten of them bearing down on us and I wasn't sure what to think.

"Don't worry, they are only here for security." Ling said walking up to us from the side. "There is no reason for your soldiers to get nervous." The marines stood at easy, but still looked upon the tanks with suspect as they continued down the street. Meanwhile the Japanese had retreated inside their logging, eyeing the tanks wearily from the windows as they passed.

I looked over to Ling who seemed to be enjoying the show. It was then I understood the true purpose of the tanks, or at least the purpose of rolling down the main street rather than along the outskirts. The Chinese almost certainly had brought them in for security, sure, but they were also meant to make the Japanese delegation anxious. Given that we had just signed an agreement not to sell the Chinese any more armor, this show of force was meant to make the Japanese question if we were honoring the deal.

However, if the Japanese were observant, they would see that the tanks were not the top of the line units we were producing at the time. Stuarts were light tanks that were quickly being replaced by better models like the Sherman medium tank. It was clear to me that the Chinese were brandishing armor that had been sold to them prior to the arms agreement being signed. Even so, the spectacle had to be prodding at the Japanese's patience.

"Do you think it's wise to provoke them?" I asked Ling, letting him know I understood the situation. "You just got your peace with them."

"A fancy piece of paper won't make us forget what they did to us anytime soon and it won't stop them if they should decide to turn lustful eye back to our lands." Ling noted. "But no, I don't agree with the decision to pull this stunt. It is unwise to imagine a hungry tiger as your friend, but it is equally unwise to poke it with a stick."

The tanks continued past the Japanese occupied buildings without incident and made their way to the perimeter of Zao-Ming taking up defensive positions on the outskirts. Once they came to rest the village became calm again.

Given that I was already outside now I decided to walk the streets and enjoy the Chinese architecture up close. Ling came along with me as a sort of guide. He told me more about the town as we went. We went past the Buddhist Temple and the Pagoda, both were impressive, resonating with Eastern culture. The southern part of town was speckled with small farms growing wheat.

Much of the village's remaining population was found there in the fields tending to the growing crops. There was a formation of rocks on a hill to the east of the village with swirls of natural color. With a landscape so perfect I cursed myself for not being an artist. It felt like God himself had a hand in the design. Hard to believe that there had been so much strife in the area so recently.

As we continued to walked I saw a Chinese woman and her young son on the other side of the road. She was very attractive and wearing a majestic white cheongsam dress. Seeing her reminded me of how much I was missing Shauna. I had been writing her letters consistently, but it didn't compare to having her by my side. I must have stared at Chinese woman for a bit too long because Ling started to talk to me about her.

"I can translate for you if you'd like to talk to her." He offered with a smile.

"Oh, gosh no." I said a little embarrassed. "It's just that, she's making me miss home. That's all."

"Ah... I see. You have a..." Ling paused as he looked for the right word. "...sweetheart waiting for. It's tough being apart isn't it?"

"Very." I agreed with him. The young lady and her son passed us by.

Later that evening Ling brought me to the bridge we had crossed earlier in the truck. The Chinese townsfolk had prepared some entertainment for the conference. On the airfield they were putting on a fireworks show. In truth, the fireworks were originally meant to celebrate the end of the Sino/Japanese war, but it was lost on most of the guests. That fact might have been lost on me too if I had not met Ling.

From our position on the bridge the bright colors from the fireworks reflected off the water below enhancing their effect. The old bridge had build in lamps that made the frame of it glow softly in the dark. Again, I found myself thinking about Shauna and wishing she could be there to see it with me. The romance of the scene was wasted without her being there to enjoy it with me. I promised myself I'd write to her about it later. I tried to memorize every detail around me.

When the show was over Ling and I went our separate ways. I had learned enough exploring with him to find my way around on my own, even in the dark.

I came back to our temporary housing to find Sgt. Brock waiting for me and he didn't look happy. It was to be the first time he'd ever spoken to me and I guess he wanted to mark the occasion by making sure I'd never forget about it. Sadly, it had not occurred to me that I should have checked with him before exploring the town and he meant to ensure I realized the error of my way. He marched up to me the moment he caught sight of me and let me have it.

"Well, well, our prodigal son has returned!" He barked at me sternly. "Next time you decide to go sight-seeing son, you'd damned well better run it past me first so I can send an escort with you. In case it wasn't abundantly clear to you my job here is to make sure your little butt stays safe and secure on this trip and you are fucking it up! I see you running around with your new slanty friend! If you want to go run around and play grab ass sailor I'm fine with it, but don't let the fact that he's being nice to you distract you from the fact that he's an agent from a foreign power and don't take for granted that their interests don't necessarily line up with ours!" I could feel Brock's spit hit my face as he got right up next to me. "If it served them well to slit your throat then you wouldn't be standing here right now!"

I tried to say something in my defense, but Brock was not having any of it. He continued to light me up.

"Hang in there tight navy boy, I'm only getting warmed up!" He continued building up steam. "I'm about to give you an education on the world at large! Political alignments change quicker than the weather in the Midwest back home. It wasn't more than forty years ago that my grand pappy was fighting these little yellow bastards in the Boxer Rebellion. They would have happily cut you in half just for being an American on their soil back then. And that went for the Japs as well. They were on our side at the time fighting side by side with us. So if you are thinking we can just hold hands with the Chinese and be buddy-buddy I got news for you: Wait long enough and the tables will turn again. The only ones you can trust are our own."

Brock paused to take a big gulp of air, which I realized meant I was still in for even more.

"In the meantime don't turn your back on any of them, particularly the Japs! The fact that we are here sitting around the campfire singing kum-ba-yah with them will end the second giant monsters stop stomping around this part of the world. None of these recent events change the fact that their government is being run by dangerously ambitious and ruthless men. There's one thing your yellow friend got right, his stories about their causal brutality are all true. I've seen it first hand. They wouldn't think twice about abducting your dumb ass if they thought you had information that would benefit them. They got guys who get hard just thinking of new ways of extracting information from prisoners. So if you are going to insist on sight-seeing around here I'd strongly urge you to stay in public areas with lots of witnesses from all sides around." The vein on the side of Brock's neck looked like it was getting dangerous close to rupturing.

He was finally finished and walked away fuming. I stood there feeling like I had been ripped a new one by my father. I felt flushed and foolish. Though Sgt Brock came off as a racist and an asshole, I knew what he said wasn't completely wrong. I had been very naive in my view of things. I had taken for granted that there were still a lot of things I didn't understand about the world. I had been so taken in by the beauty around me that I had forgotten there were also dangers. I also understood that part of the Sarg's anger was coming from his desire to protect our country and me personally.

Such as it was, I had a hard time being angry with him about it. I retired to my room for the evening, not daring to show my face around the marines. The guard at the front door was already snickering at me as I came through the entrance. He had been well within earshot of the Sgt Brock's rant and by evening's end I imagined the rest of them would be well versed in it too.

When I reached my room I found that the Admiral had left a stack of papers on my bed to review. They were copies of the various reports on Baragon and Rodan. We were meant to talk about Baragon on the first day, so I dug into those first. I spend a couple hours carefully reading through them. The details of some of the reports read like horror novel. As brutal as it was at times, I thought it was important to understand exactly what we were dealing with so I read everything. I might have missed something important if I skipped the less savory portions of the transcripts.

By the time I got through the reports on Baragon I didn't have enough time to get into the ones on Rodan. It didn't matter though, I'd have all evening the next day to catch up on those. I turned in for the night.

The next day the conference began at 0800 hrs. It was held in a Chinese theater that was meant for stage plays, but it was the only building in town that could hope to accommodate all the people for the event. The conference was being run by a Chinese man who acted as the chairman for the committee. He stood at a podium set up on stage. On either side of him were tables with the committee members representing the governments of the three primary delegations.

They had set up a projector in the back of the room and a canvas was set up behind the curtain on stage to review film when the time came. There were translators at the meeting for all sides. The seats in the theater were split into three sections: the Japanese on the right, the Chinese on the left, and us in the middle. Each section had one translator in their area to keep up with the speakers.

As I sat down I saw that Ling was up on stage off to the side of the committee members. He was being trusted to translate for the delegates on stage, a fact that spoke well for his skills. The other delegations filed in and took their seats. It didn't take long for everyone to settle down.

It soon became clear that the meeting was to be run in a fashion similar to parliamentary procedure. One person would have the floor and be allowed to talk at a time. That would make it easier for the translators to keep up and avoid confusion in general.

The meeting began with the chairman banging the gavel and calling for everyone's attention. He began to speak, welcoming everyone and thanking us for coming. Next, he gave a speech which outlined what had brought us there. He paused after every sentience allowing Ling enough time to echo what he said in English for the US delegates and another translator to speak Japanese delegate on stage. Meanwhile the fellow in our section did his best for us. Maybe it was just the timing or something lost in translation, but the Chairman's speech came off a little stiff and dry. Still, he managed to get his points across and that's what counted.

After his speech, the chairman turned over the floor to a Japanese scientist, Professor Kyouichiro Kashiwagi. He began to outline his theory on why Angirus, Baragon, and Rodan had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He had brought some colorful graphics to help illustrate his points. In the instances of Baragon and Rodan he presented evidence that directly tied their appearances to the earthquake that had taken place in the mountains of Northern China some weeks back. His assistant put up a map and he pointed out the epicenter and the sightings that came thereafter for each monster. It was not difficult to see a pattern emerge.

He had gone as far as to investigate the area of the epicenter and his team were able to locate what appeared to be a nest with broken eggshell. Though a rock-slide prevented them from fully combing the area, they were able to bring back samples to examine. They also had found the remains of what looked like giant insect husks. It was not clear at the time how they were connected, but it was a discovery that couldn't be ignored.

His theory centered on the thought that all these creatures had been either living or hibernating within the Earth's crust for millions of years. He put fourth that they'd been dormant since the age of the dinosaurs. The fact that each of the monsters were obviously reptilian in nature did lend weight to his argument. There was no denying they looked like some sort of lost species of dinosaurs. He felt that the recent mass shifts in tectonic plates had allowed them to finally come to the surface. It seemed liked a sound argument, but there were still dissenters who argued that there was no evidence in the fossil record to indicate any of these creatures had existed.

Dr. Kashiwagi's counter arguments were three-fold: One, it was possible were had not been looking in the right places. Second, given the overwhelming size of the creatures, anyone running across the remains might not recognize what they were seeing as fossils. Third, these creatures might not decay the same way normal animals do. Without having remains to examine it would be impossible to determine for certain, but he felt as though there had to be something about their makeup that was radically different from most forms of life on Earth. Their sheer size was enough set them apart from anything else on the planet, so who was to say.

By the time he was done speaking Dr. Kashiwagi raised about as many new questions as he had answered, but it was still interesting to listen to. No one else was able to present a more sound theory at the time. Where they had come from was not the most pressing issue anyway. The committee was more interested in finding ways to deal with them.

Next, there was a brief overview of all the attacks. The first speaker was an American naval officer from the battleship USS Arizona. He had been present for all the battles with Angirus. As he spoke, I had to relive some uncomfortable moments, but he didn't linger too long on Angirus since he was no longer considered an active threat. At that point he had been absent for months, so they moved on.

Baragon was next and that's where things started to get interesting. I had noticed a pattern to his attacks in my notes from the night before. A Japanese Army officer presented on him and I was eagerly waiting to see if he was going to address what I had noticed.

The army officer bought out several witnesses who spoke about what they saw in the early attacks. While their experiences were certainly interesting to listen to, none of them brought any pertinent facts to the table that were helpful. When they were done they announced that we were going to watch a film that had been recorded during the failed Japanese assault on Baragon. As they loaded up the film and prepared the stage I was anxiously shifting around in my chair. They speakers had come and gone, but none of them touched on what I saw. Had no one else seen the pattern to Baragon's attacks?

I set my thoughts aside for the moment. The projector was ready and they had turned the lights off to view the film. The movie had been shot from a hill overlooking the valley below. It started with Japanese units getting into formation and advancing into the valley. It was too misty to get a good look, which was disappointing. This was going to be the first time I had seen Baragon for myself and I hated waiting a second longer for it. The filmed went on in a somewhat dull fashion for a while just the camera panning around in the mist aimlessly. Then there was a light in the fog bank.

Before long the Japanese tanks came back into view, retreating headlong back into their lines. Finally the monster appeared on the screen pursuing them. Reading reports was one thing, but seeing it in action was quite different. I had seen Angirus and Rodan up close and personal, but right from the start I could see that Baragon was a different kind of beast altogether.

For starters, unlike Angirus, he clearly did not like being shot at. He actively avoided taking hits. The speakers had mentioned they thought he'd be more vulnerable to conventional firepower and I could see that they were right. The moment in the film when the artillery hit him on the side it was clear as day that Baragon felt it and didn't care for it.

The film was cut about the time Baragon started to eat fallen soldiers, which reinforced the theory that most of his attacks were motivated by hunger. They felt as though they might be able to lure Baragon into a trap using food as bait. Still, no one had touched on the other thing I had noticed.

I turned in my seat and tried to get the Admiral's attention. I wanted to talk to him so he could bring my information to the committee. However, the Admiral was on the far side of my row though and talking to an army officer on the other side of him. In my attempts to signal him I instead drew the attention of the chairman on stage as I flailed around.

"Young sailor, do you have something you wish to share?" I heard Ling call down to me on behalf of the chairman. I froze like a teacher had called me out for trying to pass a note in class. Admiral Nimitz finally turned back and noticed me. I just looked at him in terror. He tilted his head towards the stage and urged me to speak for myself.

"I do." I stood up feeling every eye in the room narrow on me. "My name is Marcus Ryan. I'm a sailor on the USS Enterprise. I've been present during a number of these monster attacks, and well, in reviewing the notes about Baragon's attack I noticed something interesting."

"Have you now?" Ling translated for the chairman. He smiled down at me from the stage, seeming to enjoy watching me sweat.

"Yes, has anyone else noticed Baragon has never attacked during the light of day?" I asked broadly to the room.

"What are you talking about?" The Japanese officer who had presented on Baragon answered. "The battle we just watched in the film we just watched took place during the day and Baragon had been sitting in the open for days prior to the battle."

"Yes, that is true." I agreed. "But that's not what I mean. The reports I read indicate that on the day of the battle and the days preceding it weather was overcast. The sun itself had not been out at all over the course of seventy-two hours. If you go back through the reports and read the time of each incident you will see what I saw. Every instance of Baragon appearing have occurred when the sun was absent. His attack on Beiznen was at night. His following attacks on the surrounding villages all took place at night. When he hit the train-yard it was just after sunset."

I suddenly realized I wasn't giving the translators enough time to keep up with me. I paused hoping they'd be able to get across what I was saying and catch up.

"He's always attacked in the dead of night, the early hours of the morning, dusk, or on overcast days. There's not a single instance recorded of him attacking in broad daylight." I tried to press the point home in case I had not been clear. I sat and waited for the translators to do their job.

When Ling had finished the chairman looked down and thumbed through his reports, closely examining the times. Other members of committee and general audience members also started to ruffle through through their paperwork to see for themselves.

"This might point to an aversion to sunlight, maybe a sensitivity to light in general. We've established that the creature is subterranean, I would not say it's not a stretch to assume it is unaccustomed to light. We might just be able to exploit that." I pointed out feeling like I had he room's attention.

"He is right." The chairman spoke for himself in English. One by one everyone saw that what I said was true. "This young sailor might just have discovered something useful." He followed up in Chinese, being translated by Ling. Do you have any other insights you wish to share with us?"

"I had one other thought sir." I answered. "If the plan is to lure Baragon into a trap with food, which I agree would work given his behavior, I would suggest doing so in an area with the rockiest soil possible so he can not escape underground easily. He is very adept at digging through regular dirt, but if you could get him in a place where the terrain is rough enough you might be able to pin him down for an airstrike to finally catch him."

"I was thinking the same thing." A Chinese General spoke up. I have already begun to scout potential sites for just such an operation if Baragon were to reappear within our borders. However, we would need some material support. We have the manpower, but not the armaments to ensure victory."

"The United States army would be more than up to the task and willing to support such an operation once certain arrangements are make." An American General in the middle section of the committee noted. "We'd have to secure the consent of our government first. But once that's done men and materials could be place in a week or so, depending on what location is selected."

"Alright gentlemen, I think that is good enough for today." The chairman noted. "It sounds like we have some phone calls and arrangements to start making." I move that we adjourn for the day and reconvene tomorrow to discuss what progress we have made towards this plan and to address the other threat.

After the meeting adjourned I left he hall and ran into Brock guarding the door.

"Well, maybe you are worth babysitting after-all." He noted. I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, so I kept walking.

After a quick meal I returned to my room and started to review the material on Rodan. Sadly it was not very helpful. I hadn't learned anything new. The first report covered the attack on our own fleet and given that I was present for that I already knew more than enough about it.

The trouble was that Rodan's appearance was still so fresh that there just was not a lot of data collected about him yet. The only other tactical report on him was from the Japanese and it was incomplete. Either they were holding something back or were still trying to collate their data. I read the material I had over and over again, but nothing strange was jumping out at me like it had with Baragon's notes.

I sat it aside and gave up for the evening.

The second day of the conference started much the same as the first. The committee read the minutes of the last meeting to ensure everyone remembered what we had discussed. The American general reported back to them that the American government would indeed support the Chinese plan to ambush Baragon once they had determined a location. The Chinese general reported that his scouts were still investigating a suitable location.

In truth, they would not be able to pick a location in advance. They were going to have to wait until Baragon reappeared before narrowing down their choices. There wouldn't be any sense in choosing a site, taking the time and energy to build a trap, only for them monster to show up hundreds of miles away. No, they would have to be reactionary in this case.

Given that we were at a dead end until Baragon re-emerged the chairman moved on to the new business of the day. He began to read out the information on Rodan that was already in the reports, but given how short they were, it didn't take long.

He called for a Japanese pilot by the name of Akira Honda to join him on stage. I looked over and could see a young Japanese man rise from the ranks of the Japanese section of the theater. I had not seen his name mentioned in any of the notes, so it seemed to me that perhaps the gaps in the reports were about to get filled in.

Akira got to the podium and began to recount his story. He explained how his men came under attack after losing contact with their base. How they were picked off one by one by Rodan and how by the end of their encounter they had lost 8 aircraft, including his own plane. All of this had taken place in just the space of two minutes. Akira was trying hard to impress upon everyone just how outclassed they were and how dangerous Rodan was in the sky. It seemed like he knew something the committee at large did not. I got the feeling that he was trying to continue an argument the majority of us were unaware of.

As the meeting pressed on, I finally understood what Akira was getting at. The Japanese military was set on confronting Rodan in an all out air battle. Their intent was to form a major naval strike group with their aircraft carriers and fight Rodan on his terms in the sky. Akira was trying to make them see how fruitless that would be. He wanted them to realize that attacking Rodan with planes would not work. It was starting to make sense why the Japanese officers had omitted large sections of their report on the airfield attack.

It almost felt like it was a matter of national pride to the Japanese military higher ups. They had absolute faith in their air-force. It made sense. At the time they arguably had the best air-force in the world in terms of pilot skills and experience. They also arguably had the best fighter in the Zero. They felt as though Akira's group had only done so poorly due to the inexperience of Akira's trainees and the fact that Rodan had caught them by surprise.

Akira was trying to respectfully disagree with them, but the argument was quickly getting personal. One of Akira's superiors implied that he was a defeatist and that it was due to his cowardice and lack of leadership that had lead to their defeat. This lead to a minor uproar amongst the Japanese section of the room. Many of them came to the defense of Akira who respected his opinion, while others agree with his detractor.

Before long, the translators couldn't keep up the argument between them, but it was clearly getting nasty. I looked up to Ling who just shrugged at me from the stage. Raised voices gave way to shouts and the non-Japanese speaking sections just sat there in shock at the escalating furiosity of the argument. Officers on both sides clearly felt strongly about their opinion. Akira stood at the podium silently in shame.

I felt sympathy for him. He had been put in an impossible situation. Being forced to watch his comrades die one by one while he could do little about it. If I had been in his position I doubt I would have fared any better. All he wanted to do now is prevent other pilots from the same fate and he was being berated and insulted for his trouble. Having seen Rodan in action myself I felt Akira was probably right. No matter how many fighters you could throw at him they could never hope to keep up with Rodan in the sky.

Finally, the chairman pushed Akira aside and banged his gavel angrily calling for order. When the Japanese section finally settled down the chairman moved that we take a break to let tempers cool.

We came back together a few hours later and a Japanese Admiral took the floor in place of Akira. He outlined a plan for Japan to build a network of radar stations all across the home islands to track Rodan. They were also going to begin installing naval radar on board their capital ships. That way they couldn't be caught completely off guard again.

They were planning to track Rodan to his nest. Once they were able to locate its exact location they would send in the majority of their carrier force to attack it. This is exactly what Akira had been trying to prevent. I looked over to him. He looked like a beaten dog, just sitting there looking down. It looked like this was to be the plan and there was to be no more discussion about it.

The meeting dragged on for some time after that, but nothing else of much consequence was said.

The sun was setting and I sat in my bed starring up at the ceiling thinking. I was hoping that I would be hit by an epiphany about Rodan. The Japanese plan to throw raw force at him seemed like it was doomed to fail. I felt Akira, having seen the monster up close from a cockpit, probably knew what he was talking about. My own encounter with Rodan gave me some insights about the challenges the Japanese would have to overcome to prevail.

Rodan was just too fast to catch. They would only be able to engage him if the monster chose to fight them. If it ran away there was little they could do about it. If the monster did choose to fight it would be on its terms and would be able to stay several steps ahead of them. The only real hope the Japanese had was if they were able to keep up constant pressure they might be able to tire the beast out. But there was no way to know how long that would take. Even if they were able to pull that off they were likely to loose dozens, if not hundreds, of aircraft in the process.

As I lay there racking my brain over it I began to become aware of a subtle rumble in the bed-frame.

'Are the Chinese driving their tanks through the streets again?' I thought annoyed. 'Isn't it getting a little late to be agitating the Japanese?' I rose from the bed, slipped on my shoes, and started walking towards door. 'Everyone is agitated already anyway.' The soft rumbling continued as I went down the hallway and to the front entrance.

The guards were at their station standing at attention. I looked around outside and saw no signs of the Chinese tanks. The rumbling continued just the same.

"Where's it coming from?" I asked one of the marines. The rumbling grew louder as we stood there. "I don't see anything." I got a bad feeling in my gut and I felt a cold sweat forming around my neck. "That is the Chinese tanks, right?" The marine only looked at me puzzled. The rumbling continued to get stronger.

'That can't be what I think it is...' I thought to myself, growing less confident second by second. Time felt like it was getting slower with each passing moment. Anxiety was building inside my chest and it was getting harder to breath from the tightness. The rumbling grew into a tremor. The marine guard took hold of the door-frame to steady himself. I felt off balance myself as the tremor grew even more in intensity.

The air raid siren from the airfield started going off and I knew then we were in serious trouble. The tremor finally grew strong enough to knock everyone off their feet and the words from my reports were coming to life. Men from buildings all around began pouring out to see what was going on. It was in this chaos of noise and scrambling shadows that I heard the sound of rock-face on the nearby hill crack in half. It was an unnerving, unnatural, and everyone stopped in their tracks to look at it.

What followed was worse. Soil and rock pushed up through the crack in the rock-face from below. More and more displaced rocks and dirt rolled down the hill as something was forcing it's way towards the surface. Fire and embers poured out from the opening and it looked like a hell-mouth was opening up in the ground. A moment later Baragon burst forth throwing dust and debris into the air.

Hunks of rock and silt hailed down on the roofs and in the streets of the village. Men in the street got pelted and many were injured by falling rocks. One of the Japanese men on the other side of the street was stuck dead and fell to the dirt. His buddies tried to revive him, but it was far too late for him. Brock and the Admiral came running from behind me and we were all showered by smaller raining particulates.

"We need to evacuate. Get everyone to the airfield!" Admiral Nimitz ordered.

We looked around and saw that the trucks which had brought us there were gone, however there were two jeeps parked just down the street that were being used to scuttle VIPs around the village. No one else had claimed them, so we quickly decided to use them for ourselves. Brock rounded up the rest of the marines and we made for the jeeps. The admiral and half of the marines jumped into the first one while Brock and I got into the other with the remaining marines in the back.

The first jeep sped off and turned around the corner towards the airfield. Our Jeep however didn't start when Brock turned the key. He tried a second time, but again nothing happened.

"I don't believe this, I don't fucking believe this!" Brock cursed. "Why won't it start?"

I jumped out and went around the front of the jeep with the intend of opening the hood to investigate. As I came around I saw a large rock had slammed into the front of the grill and dented it inward nearly a foot. No doubt it had caused damage to the hardware within.

"Looks like we are hoofing it Sarg!" I shouted to him. He came around himself and saw the cause of our trouble. He kicked the jeep with his boot out of frustration. He knew what I knew. We had no other choice but to go on foot. There was no more time to waste on anger. The other three marines piled out of the jeep and we made our way through the streets to the airfield.

The monster meanwhile had made its way towards the village and the Chinese tanks were moving to intercept it. The one that had been closest to was a burning heap, smashed by Baragon front paw.

In our hast we were not being careful of our surroundings. We were in a dead sprint. The marines were more used to running than I was and they quickly got into the lead. Brock had stayed close by my side though. We came upon an intersection in the street and could see Baragon beginning to enter the village. The first three marines immediately bolted and I started to follow them. Brock was more cautious though, he grabbed me by the collar and pulled me back. It wasn't a moment too soon. Two Chinese tanks were coming up the street from the other side and opened fire at Baragon.

The shells from the main cannons went well over the heads of the marines, but the tanks also opened up with their machine guns. The three marines got cut to pieces in the crossfire. I heard a bullet fly by my head and I felt the blood of the closest marine hit my face as he got hit. I had only been a few steps away from death.

Brock kept a hold of my collar and urged me down the street with him away from Baragon and around the tanks to avoid wandering back into their line of fire. The tanks continued to advance towards Baragon and it continued to close in on the village. It crashed through the first building it came across and continued towards the heart of the town.

Brock and I turned a corner around a building and a few seconds later the night lite up behind us. The sounds of the the tanks moving and firing of their weapons stopped. The the block behind us was ablaze.

Brock stopped running and looked back as if he were thinking. He pulled me towards the closest building and kicked in the door. We rushing inside and it turned out to be a restaurant. He turned over one of the tables and we crouched down behind it.

A number of tense moments passed and we waited their silently. The restaurant had large windows in the front and I sat there watching out trying to catch my breath as quietly as possible. As we sat there I became aware of other people hiding inside. They were mostly Japanese men, I recognized the pilot Akira from earlier in the day. He was ducked down behind the bar with a dozen other men.

I heard a noise from outside and looked back. It wasn't the monster. It was the sound of a child crying. I crept towards the window to look. Just around the corner I could see the child. It was the the little boy I had seen the day before. He was just sitting in the middle of the street wailing. I had the urge to run out and get him, but I had doubts. I looked back at Brock and he shook his head no to me. He understood exactly what I was thinking. I wanted to act, but was afraid.

I was dying on the inside watching. I knew it would be foolish to rush outside to get him, but I wanted to do it anyway. Just when I thought I couldn't stand it anymore, the child's mother arrived and scooped him up. I was relived, he was going to be ok. Then there was a rumble. The roof above us trembled and dust began to fall from the rafters. I looked back to the street and the monster had already arrived.

The mother screamed as both her and her child were snatched up mercilessly in the mouth of the monster. I sat their froze in fear. I saw the whole terrible thing unfold. Tears started to form in the corners of my eyes. Brock pulled me back behind the table while the monster finished with them.

I sat there traumatized by what I had just seen. I could hear the monster's breathing just outside, its shadow blocked out the moonlight from the window. The building creaked from the monster encroaching on its foundation. Finally the pressure was too much for some of the Japanese men. Four of them bolted out the back door and ran for it.

The monster sensed the movement and went after them. Light shined through the window as it moved around the building. It cut the corner too tightly though and its foot crashed through the ceiling, crushing a section of the roof and anything below it.

Brock took the opportunity to escape while it was distracted. We still had to get to the airfield if we were to have any chance of escape. I was still in a daze, but could hear very bad noises from behind us as we ran. The Japanese men who had fled didn't get very far. The rest of them in the restaurant elected to follow us. Dust a debris was still thick in the air of the village and Brock almost took a wrong turn in the chaos, but having wandered the streets previously, I pointed him back in the right direction after recognizing a landmark.

We ran and ran until we got to the bridge. We were very happy to see that it was still intact. Once we were at the top we could also see that there were still planes on the airfield, but they were all lining up to take off. We didn't have much time. Luck was not on our side though. The monster had spotted us at the top of the bridge and was already on its way towards us.

We continued to Run towards the airfield, but it was so far away. My body was aching and I was nearly out of breath. Still, we couldn't afford to stop for a second. I looked back and Baragon had gotten closer. It was nearly to the bridge. It was getting so close I could feel its big steps closing in on us. Some of the Japanese men had fallen behind. They were nearly a hundred yards behind us when I heard their screams. Baragon had caught them. I didn't look back to watch, but I could imagine the horror happening behind me. As tired as I was, the thought of the same thing happening to me kept me motivated enough to press on. The men dying behind us bought us enough time to reach the airfield.

We were too late though. They were already leaving without us. Only the Admiral's plane remained and it was poised to take off on the opposite side of the runway. They must have thought we were dead already. I wouldn't have blamed them even if they knew differently. The monster was pressing in on the airfield behind us. If they didn't leave that second, nobody was going to get out alive.

Unfortunately the monster had arrived and was moving right for it. The Admiral's plane was the biggest and most obvious target. There was nothing to stop Baragon from pouching on the aircraft once the plane started down the airstrip. The monster seemed to have lost interest in us for the time being.

It was in that moment that I saw a spotlight nearby and got a bright idea. I grabbed Brock and told him to help me. Baragon was slowly advancing on the plane, seeming to understand that he had it trapped. It was also getting closer and closer to Brock and I in the process. We quickly positioned the light and turned it on. The powerful ray of light shined directly onto Baragon's face and right into his eyes. He reacted almost instantly. He folded his ears over his eyes and thrashed about blindly. My plan had the desired effect.

Baragon took a few blind steps forward off of the airstrip and the pilot inside the Admiral's plane wasted no time taking advance of the situation. The plane sprang forward and sped down the runway. I could see the Admiral himself looking out the window at us as they passed by. The plane managed to slide by Baragon and get off the ground.

We kept the light on Baragon, following him wherever he went. The monster had stumbled even closer to us and though it still couldn't see, its instincts told it where the source of its torment was coming from. Its head began to rear back and every fiber in my body told me to run.

Brock and I bolted and we could feel heat from the monster's attack. We had managed to escape being engulfed by the flames, but could feel the skin on the back of our necks burning from the fireball. We saw the Japanese men from earlier taking shelter in the terminal across the runway and we decided to follow them there. It seemed like the best place to hide.

It didn't take long for the spotlight to flicker out under the fire consuming it. With the light gone Baragon opened his eyes. He was in a stupor, no doubt his vision was still impaired. However, his ears flickered this way and that searching for sound. It picked up what it was looking for in our direction. We saw it heading our way as we slipped inside the building.

The terminal had glass sections built into the ceiling so people could watch planes take off and land. Through those windows we could see Baragon bearing down on the building. It's ugly sharp eye peered down looking for prey. Though I was hidden under the terminal's check in counter I was able to look up and see it from a crack. I thought it was starring right at me, intent on seeking me out in particular for revenge.

I felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest it was beating so fast. I realized we were trapped. There was nowhere else to run, nowhere else to hide, and no other way to escape. Any moment Baragon was going to rip open the building and devour us. I could hear the monster's breath pressing against the walls of the building as it was trying to sniff us out. I had to make peace with the fact that we were going to die there, though I desperately wanted to live.

I knew I only had a few precious moments left. My mind was racing on how to best spend them. I felt so much regret. I wanted to tell my mother I was sorry for getting myself into this mess against her wishes. I wanted to tell Shauna how very sorry I was to leave her this way; to tell her about all the things I wanted to do with her, but there was no hope for that. I shed a silent tear and settled on just a prayer, accepting this was the end of my life. I didn't know what would come next, but I accepted that I had no say in the matter anymore.

I didn't know it, but outside the remaining Chinese tanks had linked up and were charging Baragon. The first couple of shots hit him on the side of his belly and got his attention. As he turned to face the tanks his tailed slammed into the building and collapsed it all around us. I heard the wood structure give way under the stress. There were screams from other men as debris poured down on us.

Wood planks fell on top of my hiding place and I was pinned underneath the wreckage of the building as I blacked out.


	8. Chapter 8: The Mouse Trap

Chapter 8: The Mouse Trap

I woke up and sprang forward. The last thing I could remember was Baragon bearing down on me and being buried alive. While I was I had dreamt of Baragon digging through the rubble and biting me in half.

I looked around frantically, my heart was racing and there was a cold sweat on my brow. I felt disoriented and at first I wasn't sure where I was. I was no longer in the terminal building. I felt dizzy and reached up, sensing there was something wrong. I could feel a bandage wrapped around my head and my fingers found a patch near my temple that felt wet and sticky. I brought my hand back down to examine it and sure enough, there was blood. Little balls of light began to swim around in my vision.

"You should try to take it easy." Brock said, taking me unawares. He knelt down next to me. "You took a pretty bad knock to the head. I'm no doctor, but I fixed you up the best I could."

I took in a few deep breaths and my vision started to clear. I became aware that I was on a stretcher on the airfield. The terminal building was just behind us, or rather half of it was behind us. The rest of it had been crushed in.

"What happened?" I asked. "How did we survive?"

"Well, the Chinese tankers made a last ditch effort to drive off Baragon." Brock began to explain. "They failed, but they did manage to distract him and draw him away from us. Once he was done with them, he went back to the village. I think he spotted more villagers trying to make a break for it. I'm not sure, I didn't leave our cover to go watch first hand. Didn't want to risk it coming back for us. Seemed like our best bet was to stay hidden."

I looked across the open field and saw the village off in the distance in ruins. Almost every building had been smashed in. The burnt out husks of tanks were scattered across the landscape. They appeared to have fought to the last man. Sadly their bravery had not prevailed.

"Those poor people. To have survived the war only to be killed like this." I lamented the dead Chinese civilians, thinking back particularly to the mother and child I witnessed die first hand. It made me feel sick to my stomach.

"Well, not all of them died." Brock pointed out, finding the small silver lining in the horrific situation. "Some of them were able to hide out long enough to survive. Luckily for us the Chinese had radioed in for air support. By dawn fighter planes had arrived. The sound of their engines alone was enough to make the monster high tail it out of here. Or maybe he just didn't want to face the sunlight. Who knows. Either way, he disappeared underground and has been long gone for hours. We should be safe now."

"Great, what now?" I asked. "We appear to be stranded here."

"Well, I was able to get to the radio in the terminal and let command know that we were still alive." Brock replied. "They are sending a transport plane back for us. I thought it would be best to get out of what remained of the terminal and wait for them out here. Though the walls are mostly still standing I wasn't going to bet our lives on its structural integrity. Better to wait it out at a safe distance, in case a strong wind should happen to blow by."

About fifty yards away behind Brock I could see the pilot Akira with a few other Japanese men. Brock noticed I was staring at them and looked back too. A Japanese plane had already arrived to pick them up and they were preparing for takeoff.

"Yeah, you and me are the only Americans who are still alive, but some of the Japs made it too. The majority of them died when the building collapsed on us, but some got lucky. Once the monster was gone those little bastards actually helped me get you out of that mess. There was a big support beam keeping me from getting to you and they helped lift it off. Guess I have to tip my hat to them, they are pretty strong despite how small they are." Brock almost spat the last part out.

I wasn't certain if he was anger about not being strong enough to move the beam by himself or the fact that he accepted help from the Japanese, who he seemed to despise. Either way I detected his pride was bruised by the ordeal.

The plane had started its engines and the Japanese began to board. Akira looked over to us while he was climbing inside the plane. I nodded to him in respect. It was the best thanks I could muster at that distance. He smiled back to me and disappeared inside.

"The higher-ups managed to get out on the planes, the admiral included." Brock continued. "That was some smart thinking with that spot light. Good thing you did that too, the Admiral was the one who dispatched the bird back to pick us up. By the time I got the radio working and made contact I found out that he had already radioed ahead to the base to send someone back for us. They should be arriving in a few hours."

"Well that is good to hear." I felt a little dizzy so I lay back down. "Listen Brock, I just wanted to say thank you. If you weren't there looking out for me last night I don't know what would have happened. Also for digging me out and patching me up. I'm grateful."

"It was my job. I wouldn't be much of a marine if I couldn't keep a navy boy out of the fire." He somewhat brushed what I said off. It seemed like he wanted to avoid getting into any type of emotional conversation.

He grew noticeably uncomfortable at the notion. I just sat there watching him, surprised by the fact that my gratitude was the thing bothering him. I found myself wondering how he could be so acting so causal and detached after all of that horror. He had seen the same things I had the night before and didn't seem the slightest bit shaken by it.

As Brock had promised the transport plane soon arrived to collect us. The air crew helped him load me up into the plane and they informed us that they would be taking us back to base in Philippines as soon as they refueled. I was still very disoriented from the blow to my head, so they strapped me into a cot for the flight back. To my surprise, Brock sat next to me and talked the whole time. He told me all about himself. He was from a big catholic family from the Midwest and he had played football at Notre-Dame. He must have had a lot of pride tied into it because he went on at some length about it.

Between Brock's stories and the hum of the engines I fell fast asleep. I was out for the rest of the flight. Somehow the balls of light from earlier managed to infiltrate my dreams. They were accompanied by horrible flashes of my experiences from night before. Baragon attacking the village, the sounds of men being devoured, the huge yellow eye searching for me as I hid, the marines getting cut down, and the mother and child being eaten in front of me. That was the worst of it. Somehow I kept coming back to that terrible image.

Twelve hours later we arrived back at the base. The impact of the tires hitting the runway brought me back to reality. It was a welcome reprieve for my dreams.

As soon as we stopped they took me directly to the naval hospital for examination. The doctors could tell right away that I had a concussion, but they were also concerned that the trauma to my brain might be more extensive. They would not know for sure without more testing and time. The swelling would need to go down before they could say for sure.

I ended up spending next two weeks in the naval hospital getting poked and prodded. It was not all bad though. The Admiral had ensured I shared a room with Joe, who was still there nursing his broke arm. Brock also was around. I don't know if the Admiral had ordered him to, or if he had volunteered, but he was the posted guard on our wing. He was never more than earshot away.

Joe was excited to see me and wanted details about my experience. I however was not ready to talk about it. I was still having nightmares regularly. The fact of the matter is I still sometimes have nightmares about it. Nothing was the same anymore. I felt like I had been damaged. I would wake up in the night thinking I was still on the battlefield and ready to run. One night I even fell out of bed I was so haunted by my dreams. I bruised a knee, but otherwise was ok.

After a couple of days the spots in my vision weren't as bad and I sat down to write a letter to Shauna. I had not written her since before I left for the conference. I was finally enough in my right mind to recognize that if I didn't write her soon she would start to get worried. And indeed, the gap between letters had already been long enough that she realized something had happened to me.

Looking back, I realize just how traumatized I was by my experience. I could not even write to her about it, the one person I thought I could talk to about anything. But with that, I couldn't begin to explain to her what I saw and what it did to me. I was alone, marooned on my own private island in my mind. I was feeling so defeated at the time I thought about telling her I was going to be damaged for life and that she might be better off finding a normal guy. It was the most isolated I ever felt.

I didn't want her to realize how messed up I was, so I tried to fill the letter with words I knew would reassure her I was fine, even though I knew I wasn't. I told her about the conference itself and almost nothing about what followed. At least at the time she would not know better than that. What had gone down at the conference was not yet public knowledge. I told her we were close to working out ways to defeat the monsters and that she shouldn't worry. I told her that my injuries were only slight, but just the same, I still wished she was the one nursing me back to health like before.

The next day the doctors told me they expected I would make a full recovery, but I kept seeing lights off and on. They assured me they would pass with more time. That night while Joe was watching a film in the common room Brock came to speak with me. He'd been keeping a close eye on me the whole time I was in the hospital and he could see that I was struggling. He kept it pretty short and sweet.

"You're not the only one you know." He began. "It doesn't mean you're weak. Most soldiers who have seen real action go through what you are going through. Once you've experienced something as intense as this, it stays with you forever. It's not going to go away, but it will get better. Take your time. It won't be easy to move on. Just try to get by day by day and build on that. It's important to find someone to talk about it when you are ready because if you keep it inside it will eat away at you little by little."

Once he had spoke his peace he left it at that, leaving me to reflect on what he said. It made me feel better almost immediately. A weight I didn't know was there lifted. I did better over the next few days. The Admiral started to feed me information on what was going on. He passed on reports that Brock delivered. Having something to focus on was going a long ways to getting me to feel normal again.

I found out that Baragon had moved south following the attack on the conference and hit three more villages. As agreed to at the conference, he was left to the American and Chinese forces to deal with. They were proceeding with the plan to trap him.

The Japanese were meanwhile drawing up their own plans to take on Rodan. They had begun to construct radar stations across their home islands and had recalled their fleet in preparation for one massive strike. It was going to be awhile before they were ready, but at least they were on their way.

At about the week mark of my hospital stay the Admiral came to visit me himself. He came bearing gifts. Brock accompanied him wearing the fruits of his labor. He had a brand new legion of merit medal and a silver star pinned to his uniform. The Admiral had brought one of each for me as well. In addition, he brought a purple heart. He wanted to present the metals to me personally for saving his life. To his delight, Joe also got a legion of Merit and purple heart too.

"It is with great honor I present these medals to you along with this." The admiral handed me a sealed letter. I opened it and it read out that the naval office was promoting me two ranks from Petty Officer 3rd class to Petty Officer 1st class. "Congratulations sailor!"

"Look, we got a matching set." Joe held up his purple heart next to mine, bringing a little levity to the room. "Hey, no fair, you got extra." He frowned back at me, then smirked. I looked down studying the design etched into my silver star.

"Yeah, well trust me, you're better off without this one." I did my best to joke back at him.

Later Joe and I were making our way to the mess hall. He insisted we wear our new jewelry so he could impress the nurses along the way. It backfired spectacularly for him. Everyone asked me about my silver star and how I got it, while mostly ignoring him. After dodging several of those questions I took it off and put it in my pocket to avoid further inquires. We continued to hobble down the hallway, I in my wheelchair and him in his sling.

"Ha, what a pair we make." He smiled over to me. "Look at us, we're falling apart Marcus."

"I think we might be in the wrong line of work Joe." I smiled back at him.

While I was on the mend in the hospital and our forces on the mainland in Asian were preparing for the assault on the monsters, other events were beginning to unfold in Europe.

On a small lake called Hessengart near Muritz National Park, Germany a young German soldier was returning to his home of Essenheim. His family had lived on the lake just south of the town his whole life. The lake is an offshoot of the much larger Lake Muritz. The soldier's name is Heinrich and he is making his first visit back home in many months since joining the Wehrmacht.

Heinrich made his way down the last stretch of road that led directly to his parents front door. He knocked, but there was no answer. He knew they keep their door unlocked though and he entered his childhood home to find it strangely empty. Though his visit was meant as a surprise for them, he had hoped his parents would be there to welcome him.

Heinrich put all his baggage in his room and searched the rest of the house, finding no one. While looking around he heard a noise from outside. Naturally he exited out the backdoor to investigate. He did not find his parents, but he did discover his brother on the dock. He was on his belly hanging over the edge collecting a jar of water from the lake.

"You know, if you are that thirsty Reinhart I could always take you down to the pub!" Heinrich called to his little brother. Reinhart was so startled by the sudden disruption of his concentration that he almost fell into the lake.

"Heinrich?! Damn it, don't sneak up on me like that!" Reinhart scowled. "What are you doing here?"

"I took some leave so I could attend the town festival this year." Heinrich answered. "Where's the old man?"

"Well, he's in town of course, getting thing set up at the festival grounds." Reinhart answered still irritated. "Someone had to get the beer ready. What would the festival be without beer after all?"

"Boring." Heinrich joked back. "But serious, what are you doing? It looks like you got more pond scum than water in that jar."

"Well yes, that's right." Reinhart agreed. "And that's exactly the point of me collecting it. I'm working an internship for the university. They have been trying to treat all the lakes in the area. There is a huge problem this year with Algae. The counts are way, way, up this year. It is due to the runoff from the local fields getting into the water supply. The fertilizer is causing algae blooms to explode all over the area.

It's making the toxins in the water spike and its killing the fish and other wildlife. Professor Gobel has been trying to treat it for over two weeks now. The samples I'm collecting are to measure how effective the treatments have been. It's tricky work though, the first treatment he tried actually seemed to make the algae grow more. So now he's trying a more aggressive regimen of chemicals to try to kill them off without effecting the wildlife."

"Oh, well that is all very interesting, but I guess if it's going to effect my fishing while I'm here you'd better get right on it." Heinrich did his best to pretend he care about in the science behind fighting algae. "I thought you were more interested in mechanics. I have contacts in the armored corps could probably get you a close up look at the newer Panzer models."

"I am still aiming for a career in engineering and it would be delightful to see the latest armor designs." Reinhart answered. "What I am doing here is for my biology class through the University. It's just going to get me extra credit and it's interesting to boot. You should take more of an interest in the world around you."

"Do you think you will be able to take the time away from studying your snot to attend the festival tonight?" Heinrich sneered "I could use an accomplice to scope out the frauleins."

"I would think your uniform would be enough to draw their attention." Reinhart replied. "The women all seem to love it when a soldier comes through."

"I wasn't planning on wearing it." Heinrich answered. "We can talk more about that later."

"Not going to wear it?" Reinhart looked surprised. "Lots of wasted potential there dear brother." He shook his head. "You should still wear it, if only to honor our late Fuhrer."

"I'm glad he's dead." Heinrich replied. If Reinhart's jaw were able to hit the ground it would have in that moment. He looked at his older brother like his skin was turning green.

"Christ Heinrich, what did you just say?" Reinhart exclaimed. "After everything the Fuhrer did for this country you go and say something like that? This coming from a soldier of the Reich?"

"Reinhart, I know you are smart, but you have never been out of the village." Heinrich replied. "You haven't seen the things I've seen. The newspapers and radios aren't reporting what has really been going on within the party. We should not trade peace of mind and stability for our freedoms. Piece by piece the party has been chipping away at them. What really worries me is that everyone has been going along with it blindly for so long they have forgotten to think for themselves. I was just as guilty, caught up in it myself, but I am starting to see the danger. A drowning man will take anyone's hand if they think they will save them, but you might just be accepting help from the devil if you aren't careful. I know, it sounds strange right? But let me explain. I don't mind telling you now that I've been working for army intelligence for the last two years. Despite all the good things the Fuhrer did for our people, you have no idea just how close he came to leading us into war. And not just one war, but multiple wars."

"What do you mean, what wars?" Reinhart asked confused and skeptical.

"The Fuhrer reunited the German speaking people and restored honor to our nation, true enough, but that was not enough for him. He wanted more. He had dreams of conquest. I have seen the documents come across my desk which indicated an invasion of Poland was being planned. Invading another country is not the same as reclaiming what is rightfully ours. Do you know what would have happened if he had actually went ahead with the invasion? Both France and England had both vowed defend Polish independence if it were attacked. It would have meant a war on two fronts against three major powers. Who knows what else it could have led to. You're too young to know Reinhart, war is an ugly, ugly, thing. It's not the romantic story they try to sell you in the propaganda films. It's the worst thing that can happen in this world and too many of us have forgotten that. So, as treacherous as it sounds, with the Fuhrer and so many other high ranking members of the party dead, we are safer that way. Things are starting to head into a more sane direction."

"I'm not sure that I can agree." Reinhart replied. "Hasn't he death of the Fuhrer has caused a lot of upheaval in Berlin? The newspapers have said so. Isn't there a power vacuum that every two-bit politician is trying to fill?" The unrest is starting to feel like it did when we were kids, before Hitler stabilized things. The communists and other radicals are once again becoming emboldened enough to voice their dissent openly."

"I'm not sure it wouldn't be better if some other political voice took over." Heinrich replied. "The Nazi party helped us restore our national pride, but their tactics have become increasingly brutal. With every shard of power they have collected they have become more bold. They are preaching reckless hate towards other countries and our own citizens. It has slowed down since the Fuhrers death, but it is still there. Several weeks ago my friend Franz had his store shut down and he was arrested on a trumped up charge of treason. No one has seen or heard from him since he was arrested. I looked into it. There were no witnesses and no evidence against him, they just made the call and acted. No checks or balances in the system. If they can do that to him what is stopping them from doing it to anyone else? And it hasn't just been him, other people were and are disappearing, people who disagreed with the government or people who were just different."

The two brothers sat there pondering the possibilities.

"But now it's all starting to change." Heinrich went on. "The black cloud hanging over the Father land is lifting. The party is starting to fragment into factions as various groups vie for power. The party as a whole is much weaker than it was without Hitler and the other high ranking members. The lack of unity within the remainder has weakened their overall position. I'm not sure of where the present upheaval will take us, but I am sure it will be better than where we were going."

Through the Admiral reports I learned that operation "Mouse Trap" had begun in China.

Fortune had smiled on us, Baragon had appeared within forty miles of one of the primary ambush sites that had been selected for the attack and the forecast for the day was cloudy. Given our past experience with Baragon's movements, the numbers boys calculated there would be ample time to get everything in place before he would arrive on site.

The brass got things rolling by rushing transport planes and the stockpiled food stores to the area. The planes were kept just ahead of Baragon's path to avoid alarming him. Once they were certain of his course they made the first drop that would intersect his projected path. It worked perfectly. The observers on the ground reported from the first site that Baragon initially appeared weary of the food left out in the open, but quickly let his guard down. His hunger overwrote his other instincts and he took his first taste of many baits. After finishing the first drop he followed his sense of smell to the second site several miles away.

The patterned repeated several times. Baragon seemed to be able to detect fresh meat up to seven miles away. Each time he came within that range of a lure he make a B-line for the bait. The transports put down fresh meat in the direction they wanted Baragon to go next as he ate the previous drop. It was clear that he could be lured.

After two-to-three drops without interruption of any kind Baragon appeared less weary of a free meal. The beauty of having so many drops sites ahead of the actual trap was it was conditioning the monster into a false sense of security. It was also slowing him down long enough for the Chinese to rush in the equipment that was still needed in place. Everything was going well.

There was only one hiccup in the entire operation. Once it had been established that Baragon would eat food that was air dropped in his path one of the Chinese generals got the bright idea to poison one of the drops. He took it upon himself to lace the fourth drop with Cyanide. It didn't work. The pile was left untouched by the monster and it moved on. Some of the local wildlife found it though. Suffice to say, the prey animals in the area had a fair less number of predators to worry about for a while.

In retrospect it was worth a try, but ultimately fruitless. Worse, the attempt had put the whole operation in jeopardy. No one knew if Baragon would avoid the next lure after that. Luckily the creature just so happened to move the direction they wanted him to by its own accord. They resumed the regular drops immediately after the botched poisoning attempt and thankfully Baragon continued to respond to them as he had before. We had dodged a bullet.

Several hours and food drops later Baragon was approaching the final destination on his journey. He seemed blissfully unaware of the rocky changes in its surroundings as it pressed towards its next meal. A half full belly was not enough to satisfy him. His greed for meat was distracting him from the growing dangers around him as he pressed on further.

The sun was setting behind the cloud cover as Baragon drew in close to the trap. The site was well prepared for him by this time. The few soldiers on the ground were hidden away in their bunkers waiting for him. They watched the monster closely with their binoculars from their hiding places. Step by step Baragon was getting closer to his next meal and everything else that waited for him.

In an effort to keep Baragon from becoming wise to the trap, ground forces were kept to an absolute minimum. There were no tanks, trucks, or cannons. The entire attack would hinge on the air force being able to hit the monster hard and fast. To that end, over two hundred planes had been brought together for the attack. The nearby airfields were stretched to their max.

As Baragon neared attack zone, dozens of bomber and fighter squadrons were already in the air, flying in a holding pattern ten miles away. They were just far enough away to ensure Baragon would not hear the sound of their engines. Once Baragon had reached the point of no return the signal would go out and they would begin their approach. It didn't take long.

Baragon crossed the designated line on the map and the silent radio signal went out. The monster could not know that he had just gone from the hunter to the hunted. The planes stopped their circling and formed up into predesignated columns to begin their attack.

Baragon confidently marched his way forward following his nose the bait. Finally he spotted it and his mouth watered. It was by far the largest pile that had been left for him and he eyed it greedily. Command wanted to ensure there was no chance Baragon would be done eating before the planes arrived. They looked upon it has his last meal, so they felt it was only right to be generous to the condemned. They had wanted him in an exact predetermined location for the attack and distracted. That's just what happened. The monster dug in and hardly looked up.

When the planes came within range moments later Baragon was so engrossed in his meal he didn't notice the sound of their engines. It wasn't until they had closed to less than a mile that he finally heard them, and when he did pick up on their presence, he was slow to react. Perhaps he was tired from trying to digest his meals from earlier or perhaps he was just weighed down by the extra tonnage in general, but either way he was noticeably more sluggish than he'd been in previous encounters.

As predicted the first thing Baragon tried to do was retreat underground. He was able to dig up the surface soil easily enough, but very quickly he hit solid rock and that was a different story. The monster was not capable of expressing horror, but if he could, I think he would have at that moment. To his credit Baragon's claws were strong enough to chip way at the rock, but not quickly enough to make a difference.

Seeming to understand the wasted effort, he moved over to a new spot a couple hundred yards away and began again. The second attempt yielded similar results. Baragon then started to make a break for it back the way he came as the planes drew in ever closer. This had been anticipated though. The planes had been routed to the battlefield from that very direction. Baragon's retreat was in fact bringing him even closer to them.

The air attack was imminent and it was at this point where the trap was truly sprung. Spotlights that had been carefully hidden all over the valley came to life one by one. Each of them aiming for Baragon's sensitive eyes. The monster came to a dead stop once the first stream found its target. Baragon roared his rage to the world and spit out fire randomly in the path in front of him. It did him little good though, the spotlights were too far away from him to be reached by his flames.

As the spotlights did their job pinning Baragon down, the bombers closed to attack range. Not only did the lights disorient and blind Baragon, but they also pinpointed his position for the planes in the dark. Night bombing would have been impossible otherwise. High level bombing was fairly hit or miss even during the day with the best of conditions and unusually their attacks were made on stationary targets. This situation was anything but that, so the searchlights were essential for them to be successful.

The bombers came in much lower than usual to compensate for all their disadvantages, but were careful to stay high enough to be out of range of Baragon's flame attacks. The first wave finally got into position above the monster and the attack began. Hundreds of bombs rained down all around Baragon and detonated on impact. At least two bombs hit Baragon directly, landing right in the middle of his back. While that spot was protected by his body armored, it was still clear that the force of the resulting explosions bothered him. An entire row of bombs were a near miss, hitting the ground close enough to Baragon's unprotected underbelly to do indirect damage.

The first wave passed and the second wave of bombers had a similar level of success. Baragon was helpless to do much about it. He couldn't run, he couldn't hide, and he couldn't fight his attackers. He was just a sitting duck. Fighter planes dove down and harassed Baragon with their machine guns while the third wave of bombers lined up their attack.

It was at this point when Baragon decided to make a blind dash to try to escape, or at least avoid the next attack. He managed to get a few hundred yards before tripping over a formation of rocks. It would turn out to be a fateful move. The bomber pilots had to reroute their planes to redirect their attack on the fly and this was tough considering their tight formation. The cohesion of the attack was slightly disrupted.

Ultimately they were able to successful drop their bombs on Baragon for a third time, but one of the resulting explosions also severed the main power line that connected the spotlights to the generator that was powering them. The battlefield went pitch black and there wasn't anything that could be done about it.

The fourth and fifth wave of bombers circled aimlessly not being able to find a target. The fighters made blind runs trying to use their red hot tracer rounds to locate Baragon, but that was like trying to light up an entire football field with a single match. It proved to be an impossible task. Baragon could not be found and the operation was effectively at an end.

By morning Baragon was gone. Strangely there were no escape holes to be found within twenty miles of the ambush site. Near the end of the following day the search teams did find a trail which lead into a mountain range, but no further trace of Baragon were found after that. Though it was disappointing to have lost Baragon, we had managed to do some damage. His blood was found all over the battlefield. It was not clear if they had struck a mortal blow, but if nothing else Baragon learned that humans too could be dangerous.

Back in Essenheim it had been quite the night. Heinrich had surprised his parents at the festival and they had feasted together with the best foods Germany had to offer. He had also drank his fair share of beer.

Fortunately he had built up a good tolerance over the years and was handling himself well. The festival was just the thing to make him feel at home and unwind. It had been weeks since he was able to feel so relaxed. The problems of his country sank to the bottom of his mind. He had danced some dances and sang some traditional songs along with the crowd. Even without the advantage of his uniform he had still caught the eye of some of the local girls. He could recall many of them from when he was in school, but there were also some new faces.

He talked with a few and danced with a few. He was having a good time. After a few more dances he spotted his brother Reinhart sitting by himself looking disinterested in the party. He went over to talk with him.

"What's wrong little brother, are we feeling anti-social tonight?" Heinrich inquired.

"I feel anti-social every night." Reinhart replied. "You know these kind of events aren't for me."

Heinrich had hoped his brother would have changed while he was away, but he had never been the type of person who liked big crowds and noise. He didn't like beer, overeating, or loud music. Generally he preferred to stay home and quietly read a book or work on an project. Heinrich could almost feel Reinhart's urge to escape the party. He felt a little guilty because he knew Reinhart was only staying because he wanted to spend time with him there.

"I suppose we have spent enough time here. What do you think, should we say goodbye to the folks and hit the road?" Heinrich offered.

"I thought you would never ask." Reinhart wasted no time rising from his chair. It was as if he had been unclasped from some unseen shackles.

The brothers said their goodbyes and left the beer hall. Heinrich noticed a few disappointed looking frauleins on the way out, but there would be time enough for that later. He had several days still to venture back to town and get reacquainted. He wanted to make reconnecting with his brother a priority.

As they walked home they reminisced about their past exploits together as kids: Lost adventures down by the creek looking for pirate treasure, sneaking past their parent's room to raid the pantry for sweets at night, and camping out at night in their back yard looking for shooting stars.

They were about halfway home when clouds rolled in from the southwest. It began to rain on them. It was only a slight sprinkle at first, but before long it became an all out downpour and they were forced to run the rest of the way. Despite their best efforts, they were still soaked by the time they reached their doorstep.

"Yarg, I didn't know it was supposed to rain tonight!" Heinrich exclaimed as he used the towel to finish drying off his hair. He handed one to Reinhart who began to dry himself off too. "I'd better get one more for the floor or mother his going to have fit when she gets back."

Heinrich got to work on the floor and Reinhart meanwhile made his way to the kitchen. When he returned Heinrich had managed to nearly dry the whole floor off. Reinhart had a plate with a cloth covering it's contents.

"Is that what I think it is?" Heinrich asked with a knowing smile.

"It is." Reinhart pulled the cloth off revealing the special family pastries their mother was known for baking.

"How did you manage to keep these a secret for so long?" Heinrich asked suspiciously. "Ha, the rest of this can wait."

"Well, when you mentioned our old raids on the kitchen it reminded me that mother had made a few of these for the festival. Clearly she forgot to take them." Reinhart smiled sinisterly.

"Their loss, our gain." Heinrich took one of the pastries and took a bite. They both sat on the wood floor and enjoyed their desert. As they sat and munched they could hear he rain getting harder. It pattered against the roof of their house.

"It's really coming down hard out there." Heinrich noted. "They're going to get stuck down there at the festival until this storm passes."

"Ha, that would suit father just fine." Reinhart laughed. "He never wants to leave. Mother always has to drag him out of there." The wind kicked up and beat against the side of the house, taking the brothers a little off guard. It hollowed down the chimney, breaking the festive mood in the room. The rain grew even more intense outside.

The wind started to blow the rain sideways so it was beating against the windows. Heinrich stood up and went to the window to get a better look outside. The rain was beating down hard against the lake water. Trees were rocking back and forth regularly from the gusts of wind. Spots of lightening were starting to creep in from the distance. The rumbles of the resulting thunder echoed through the house.

"I bet everyone out at the festival is running for the beer hall at this point." Reinhart had run to grab some candles and was trying to light them. Meanwhile the lightening was getting closer and reflected off of the water from the lake.

"Yeah, I bet you're right." Heinrich was starting to feel a little nervous knot his his belly. He had always played the part of the brave older brother when they were kids, but he had never, never, liked storms. Perhaps it was some primordial fear he retained from their ancestors. Whatever the reason, he tried to dismiss the discomfort he was feeling. He wasn't a child anymore and rainstorms shouldn't bother a grown man.

He looked away from the window and went over to help Reinhart light the candles. He was still struggling to get them lit. As he walked over he heard a rumble much louder than anything that had come before. The intensity of it shook the house and shook him to the core too.

"That was a big one, it must have been really close." Reinhart remarked, seemingly undisturbed by the sound and vibration. However, there was something deeply disturbing about it to Heinrich.

He had not seem any flash of lightening proceeding the thunder. He stood there frozen by some unspoken fear. He knew something was very not right. He felt like he needed to turn around and look back out the window, but the other half of his instincts told him not to move. It wasn't clear which feeling he should act on. As he stood there like a statue, Reinhart looked up at him.

"Come on, don't tell me the weather is bothering you this much?" He smiled at him, not quite believing his tough older brother could be so easily humbled by the weather. The house shook with a second, notably stronger, rumble. Again, there was no lightening to be found to explain the noise. The slight smirk on Reinhart's face began to melt away as he too started to realize something strange was going on. "That's not the wind..." He noted as the color in his face faded. A moment later the house was hit by a wall of water. It broke out one of the back windows facing toward the lake. "What the hell is going on, what was that?" Reinhart shrieked in shock. The brothers both rushed to see what had broken the window. What they found was strange. There was a fish flopping around on the floor which had come in through the broken window with a fair amount of water. "Did this come from the lake?" He asked poking at the fish.

"I think so." Heinrich answered, picking at some green goo hanging off the broken window. It appeared to be the same algae they had collected from earlier. "How the hell did...?" Another rumble shook the entire house, causing Reinhart to loose his footing on the wet wood floor. Heinrich helped his brother get back on his feet on the slippery floor. As he did he caught a figure rising from the lake in the corner of his eye.

The first thing he noticed was a row of sharp spikes piercing out of the water, they glistened in the lightening from the storm behind it. Next came a massive back and torso. Hunks of mud fell away from the massive body as rain continued to pour down on it. As the mud was washed away its skin was revealed. Its back was bumpy and armored. It opened its mouth revealing sharp teeth and then it turned in their direction.

The huge creature began to make it's way out of the lake and towards the beach, all the while the house shook with each of its steps. Heinrich and Reinhart watched helplessly through the window as it crashed through the house directly next door to them and continued past leaving their house untouched. They felt relieve for a few precious moments before they realized it was heading in the direction of town. For a few tense seconds neither Heinrich or Reinhart knew what do to, but finally Heinrich grabbed a coat and the family gun off the mantle.

"What are you doing?" Reinhart exclaimed. "You can't hope to stop that thing with just a rifle!"

"We have to do something." Heinrich snapped back, loading the gun. "Nobody in Essenheim has any idea that thing is coming."

Moments later the brothers burst through their front door and ran down the road in the rain after the giant monster.


	9. Chapter 9: The Yellow Sea Turned Red

Chapter 9: The Yellow Sea Turned Red.

Heinrich and Reinhart ran as quickly as they could. Rain continued to pour down on them beating against their faces. The storm was making it difficult to see where they were going, and despite their best efforts, they could not keep pace with the monster. It was crashing through the trees ahead of them, effortlessly snapping them like matchsticks as it went. The creature was getting further and further ahead of them with every massive step it took. Reinhart did not have the endurance to keep up with his older, more athletic, brother. He was out of breathe and losing speed second by second.

"This is pointless!" Reinhart called to Heinrich with his last bit of breathe as he came to a stop. "Even if we could keep up a dead sprint, there's no way we are going to beat that thing to Hessenheim."

Heinrich stopped and looked back at this exhausted younger brother, then back at the monster ahead of them. Though he hated to admit it, it was clear to him that his Reinhart was right. Even if he left Reinhart behind and pressed on alone, he would still continue to lose ground. They needed a better option and needed it fast.

"We're gonna have to go through the woods!" Heinrich called back to his younger brother. "If we stay on the road we have no chance, but if we take a short cut we might just make it in time."

Reinhart didn't look too impressed with the idea, as he was still struggling to catch his breath and more running would not be easy for him. However, he realized what was at stake if the monster reached the village before they did. Heinrich's plan was pretty much their only alternative. If they stayed on the road it would only wind them around the woods and cost them precious time.

"Ok, let's do it then." Reinhart resolved to follow his older brother's lead. Heinrich nodded and they both darted off the road and into the treeline. The trees gave them some relief from the hard falling rain, but the terrain was rough and slippery. Running through it was proving to be more difficult than either of them had expected.

For the most part it was a downhill dash, which helped, but that made slowing down and dodging around obstacles along the way tricky as their momentum carried them forward. Each of them struggled to keep pace, but finally they came to a clearing on the hill which gave them their first view of the town. The rain had slowed to a sprinkle by that time, so they had a good vantage point to see what was going on.

They could see gentile lights of the windows below in the dark. The monster by this point had circled around the hill and they could see it closing in on the town from the far side. Upon seeing it Heinrich realized they were too late. Even with their short cut the monster would still easily reach the town before they could. In desperation he came up with a last ditch effort to warn the people below of the impending danger.

Reinhart watched as his brother pulled the rifle strapped to his shoulder free and brought it into firing position. He expected that Heinrich would point it at the monster and was confused as his brother instead pointed it towards the sky and fired. Once he had fired, he ejected the empty cartridge from the rifle and quickly loaded another.

Without explanation, Heinrich repeated his shot aiming at nothing in particular. The shot rang out, breaking up the slight white-noise patter of the rain echoing down into town. Down below in the beer hall, people heard the disturbance and started to trickle out to investigate the sound of gunfire. Reinhart meanwhile made his third shot, bringing even more people from the party outside or to the windows of the hall. They didn't spot Heinrich, but they did spot the monster bearing down on the town.

It roared as it got even closer to the town, making it impossible to miss. The reaction from the villagers was mixed as they realized the threat that was coming at them. Some people stood there in disbelief and shock, others instantly bolted away, and some simply retreated back inside the hall to what they must have felt was relative safety.

It was pandemonium as fear and terror spread throughout the village. Lights flickered on here and there as the town came alive with alarm. The majority of the villagers were inside the beer hall as the creature came within a hundred yards of the first house at the edge of town. Without even slowing down, the monster smashed right through the building with it's front legs. Wood shards and other debris showered nearby rooftops as it pressed forward.

The monster continued to trample over everything and everyone in it's path. A man fleeing from his home caught the creature's attention and he was snatched up in its jaws. It was over for him quickly after that. People were still struggling to get out of the beer hall as it closed in on them. Seeing a man eaten alive only served to escalate the panic. The doors of the hall were jammed as people rushed to escape. Villagers fell over from being pushed from behind, which only made getting out that much harder. The lights and sounds of chaos erupting at the beer hall only seemed to attract the creature more. It pressed in close until finally it's body rolled over the building, collapsing it instantly.

When it was over, the building was flattened. It was obvious that no one who was still inside could have survived. As they watched the aftermath, Reinhart fell to his knees in anguish while Heinrich belted out a hateful roar that torn up his throat. The world had fallen off its axis for the two brothers. It was almost a certainty that their parents had still been inside the building when it collapsed. Reinhart sobbed uncontrollably while Heinrich threw aside his rifle having no more use for it. Heinrich collected his shattered brother and dragged him by the collar down towards the village.

"Are you mad?" Reinhart shouted. "What are you doing? We can't go down there now!"

"We can and we are." Heinrich declared cold and calmly ignoring his brothers pleas. Reinhart struggled pointlessly against his much stronger brother. Meanwhile, the monster continued to rampage through small village, tearing up everything it came across.

"You idiot, you are going to get us both killed." Reinhart yelled at his brother, trying to punch him in the ribs.

"No, you and I are going to stop this." Heinrich assured his younger brother as he released him. Reinhart fell to the wet ground and looked up at his brother, who he was certain had lost his mind from grief. Heinrich was walking away, leaving him to fend for himself in the mud.

"Where are you going?" Reinhart demanded, getting back to his feet.

"There." Heinrich pointed the police station.

"What, you think you can find a bigger gun there?" Reinhart asked sarcastically. "What good is that going to do exactly?" A bullet or two won't mean much to that thing!"

"Just follow me and shut up." Heinrich growled back.

The two brothers made their way into the police station, which by that point, it was almost empty. There was just one frantic officer left inside trying to radio for help from the outside. He didn't even notice the two brothers slip past him towards the weapons storage locker. The locker had been left wide open in the chaos.

"Here, hold this." Heinrich grabbed a nearby duffel bag and gave it to Reinhart. They went inside the locker and Heinrich began to grab small tin canisters that were lined up along a shelf and put them inside the bag one by one. "Whatever you do, do not drop the bag."

"Ok." Reinhart answered, not certain what they were collecting. Once Heinrich had taken all the cans, he turned and grabbed a device with a long metal cylinder with a stand attached.

"Alright, let's go." They sneaked out of the police station undetected. Once they were back outside they found what was left of the village in chaos. People were running from the monster in every direction. Most of the police officers had already been killed by the monster. It was unclear to anyone where it was best to take refuge. Anyone wandering the streets would be snatched up and eaten and buildings certainly weren't safe. The creature was smashing them at will. It had just leveled another one when Heinrich caught sight of it.

"Come on, follow me." He urged his brother on towards he beast. It was moving towards city hall.

"What did we just steal?" Reinhart finally asked as they chased after it.

"A mortar." Heinrich answered.

"A mortar?!" Reinhart shouted back. "Those things that launch explosives?!" He held onto the bag extra tight.

Once they had come within a block of of the monster Heinrich signaled for Reinhart to stop. He put down the pipe he was carrying and told Reinhart to open the bag up. Once the stand was set in place and pointed at the monster Heinrich told his brother to hand him one of the canisters from the bag. Reinhart obeyed.

Heinrich slid the canister into the opening of the pipe and quickly turned away from it. The canister rattled its way down the pipe until it hit the bottom. Once it had, there was a slight pop followed by an odd zooming sound. The canister flew back up the pipe and burst out the opening.

Reinhart watched as the shot arched up in the air and came back down close to the monster. The canister hit a couple yards away from its intended target, but it didn't explode on contact. Instead there was a slight crackle and smoke came out of it. Reinhart thought the explosive was a dud. He sighed, thinking they weren't off to a great start. Just then, the canister erupted, billowing out copious amounts of smoke. Heinrich launched another two canisters in rapid session, which landed close to the first one. They too let out a cloud of gas and smoke which began to spread all over.

The monster didn't notice any of it at first. It just continued to smash city hall piece by piece undeterred. The bell in the tower rang out as the creature used its claws to tear down the structure around it. The building gave out and collapsed towards the ground. Slowly, the smoke from the canisters began to rise up. It took a few moments, but once the smoke had reached the monster's face there was a noticeable reaction. It was plain to see that it doesn't like it. The monster moved forward out of the cloud and further down the block to escape it.

"What is this stuff?" Reinhart demanded from his brother.

"It's tear gas." Heinrich answered.

"How did you know it would be in there?" Reinhart motioned back to the police station.

"I told you, I was working for intelligence branch of the army." Heinrich explained. "The gas was supplied to all police stations in the country since the Fuhrer's death. It was meant for crowd control. Given the riots in the past times of political uncertainly, the powers that be felt it would be wise to have it on hand." The brothers had to pick up the mortar and carry it down the street to catch up with the monster again, who had retreated out of range.

They set it up again within just a few seconds and resumed launching tear gas at the monster. Again, once the gas reached its face, the creature was forced to retreat out of the gas cloud. The brothers kept pace with it, moving and firing when needed. They had nearly managed to force it out of town after several rounds of attacks.

Heinrich and Reinhart were setting up for the fourth, and what they hoped would be, the final time. They were riding high on their momentum. Reinhart was on his knees bent over grabbing more canisters out of the bag while Heinrich was standing, positioning the mortar.

The first canister they launched actually hit he monster in the face and bounced off. They had really gotten good at determining the range through repeated use of the weapon. Reinhart thought to laugh until he saw the monster start to turn its head towards them. Their luck had run out. The creature spotted them. Heinrich launched two more canisters, which he hoped would make the monster retreat like it had before. The gas was on target, but to their horror, the monster blinked, bringing up a semi-transparent membrane to protect its eyes from the gas.

It glared down on them menacingly, seeming to understand they were they source of all its irritation. It roared malevolently, the sound and resulting vibration paralyzing both Heinrich and Reinhart. The monster reared back its tail and swung it down at them. There was nowhere to run, they couldn't hope to escape its attack.

The massive tail swipe pulverized everything in its path, snapping trees and turning a house between it and the intended targets into a pile of kindling. The tail also hit a automobile that was sitting across the street sending it, along with other debris, flying towards the brothers. Reinhart instinctively lay down flat. The car flew right over him and landed fifty odd yards behind him with a crash as it landed inside a house.

'Jesus Christ.' Reinhart thought frantically, frozen to the ground with fear. 'I should be dead.' The monster's tail still hung above him, blocking out the moonlight above. He was sure that at any moment it would come falling back down to finish him off. To his disbelief, the tail floated away from him back the way it had come.

"My god Heinrich, can you believe that?" Reinhart asked, rising to his knee. "He missed us!" Heinrich did not answer. Reinhart looked back to where his brother had been. He was gone. "Brother? Brother!" He shouted, his voice echoing in the ruined neighborhood. "Where are you?" He looked for Heinrich, but he was nowhere to be found. There was a gust of wind from behind Reinhart, but he ignored it, still looking for Heinrich.

What Reinhart wasn't seeing was the monster moving again. While its eyes were protected from the gas, it still had to breathe. The creature had inhaled a significant amount of gas when it had swung its tail. The gas was doing its work, attacking the monster's respiratory track. With its chest on fire, the monster had finally had enough and leap into the air with its powerful back legs. While leaping, it opened up membranes between its front and hind legs and glided away from the village.

The force of the jump caused a blow-back, which caused the tear gas to spread all over the town. The surviving villagers, including Reinhart, were caught up in the cloud. Reinhart was still trying to find his brother when it overtook him. Within seconds he was plagued by respiratory pain, skin irritation, and a horrible stinking in his eyes. He stumbled around, impaired by the effects of the gas. He took his shirt off and wrapped it around his head in an attempt to limit his exposure.

In the immediate aftermath, the monster who went on to be known as Varan disappeared. The popular theory was that he retreated back into one of the various lakes in the region to wash the gas residue off of himself. The initial reports made it sound like it was Angirus who had reappeared. After all, there were certain characteristics that both monster shared, but given that the new monster possessed the unusual ability of flight, it was quickly concluded they were dealing with something new.

Meanwhile in the Gulf of Lion, just south of France, a strange object was found floating in the water not too far off coast from Toulon. A fishing ship was the first thing to run across it. The crew of the vessel radioed their discovery into their company's headquarters who then proceeded to report it to the French Government. What they had found appeared to be a gigantic egg. It was robin blue with yellow strips and white spots.

There was much debate about what to do with it. Some wanted it destroyed on the spot, others wanted it brought inland to be studied, and a few simply thought it should be left alone to drift somewhere else. As it was floating in French territorial waters, it was in their government's hands to decide how to deal with it.

They eventually decided that it was to be studied. The French officials felt it might offer some much needed insights to the sudden appearance of giant creatures all over the world. Such as it was, the egg was towed into port and brought inland. A shelter was quickly erected to house it and protect it from the elements.

It didn't take the scientists on hand too long to conclude that the egg was fertile and housed some type of life form. It was giving off heat and, from time to time, movement was detected from within. Exactly what was inside was mystery though. The two leading theories were either a bird or reptile. Small samples of the egg's shell were chipped away and sent to a lab for analysis. The results were inconclusive.

Whatever was inside the egg, it was completely unlike anything they could find a reference match for. Though the studies continued, it was starting to become clear they wouldn't know exactly what they were dealing with until it hatched.

"Take that you bastard." Marcus said aloud, having finished reading the report about ambush for Baragon.

"They got him good then?" Joe asked.

"They are hopeful that he crawled into a hole somewhere and died." Marcus answered. "No seismic activity has been reported anywhere in China since the attack. It's a very good sign."

"So it's just the big bird we have to deal with then?" Joe mused.

"Don't take him too lightly." Marcus warned. "I'd rate your 'big bird' far more dangerous than Baragon was. We were able to beat him because were we able to exploit a weakness. Rodan has no such weakness, at least not that we've been able to identify. The Japanese should wait until we can study him further before committing to such a large engagement."

"It's funny, I think the fact that we were successful in our assault has emboldened them." Joe suggested. "Or maybe they just don't want us making them look bad?"

"I'm afraid you may not be too far off." Marcus frowned. "The Japanese are a prideful people. The fact that we were able to defeat both Angirus and Baragon, particularly as they had been unsuccessfully hunting for the latter of the two for so long, just might have bruised their national ego. I just hope it doesn't push them into something rash."

In Japan, the radar network was being completed and the fleet was gathering in their northern bases.

Akira had volunteered to join mission to attack Rodan. Given his experience with the monster his superiors agreed. It wasn't quite as simple as that though. He would be required to do some additional training if he was to participant. He was an avatar typically assigned to close air support for the army, and thus, he was used to take offs and landings from a land based airstrip. This mission would be primarily carried out by navy planes and that would mean take offs and landings from a carrier. It was considerably more difficult to land on a carrier. Even for an experienced flyer like Akira, it was no walk in the park for someone who had never done it.

Over the days leading up to the mission, Akira practiced regularly. He was not an expert by the time they were done, but he was adequate enough to do the job. There was however one other condition required before they would allow Akira join the attack. He was not to speak of his previous encounter with Rodan or express his opinion of it to anyone. Not having much other choice in the matter, he agreed.

Once the radar stations were operational, they were able to narrow down the possibilities of Rodan's nest site. The large stations had a range of about 125 miles. They could not detect the monster all the way to the mainland, but they could detect the monster flying over the sea of Japan. Through repeated radar contacts they were able to determine that Rodan heading was flying fairly regularly towards a particular patch of airspace. The airspace in question was over an area of land just northeast of Korea, somewhere close to the coast.

With that knowledge, a radar station was hastily put together in Northern Korea to try to pinpoint the nest's exact location. The station was up within four days and it made contact with Rodan almost immediately. However, it too proved to be too far out of range to determine the exact location of Rodan's nest. It did however give them enough information to know the nest was within easy striking distance of the coast. It couldn't be more than twenty miles inland and that meant the fleet could launch their raid from the carriers as planned.

Factions within the military argued over if they should immediately mobilize the fleet to strike or construct a second tower in Korea with the intent of providing them with even greater intelligence. Most of commanders felt that it was unnecessary to build a second tower; that they had sufficient enough information as it was to carry out the attack. They also argued that if they built another tower too close to the nest that it might alarm Rodan and they wanted to surprise him.

News of the American victory over Baragon did seem to have some effect. After only two days of debate, the decision was made to proceed with the attack. The Japanese fleet made final preparations and set out for the coast.

The fleet represented one of the largest gatherings of naval power the world had ever seen. There were well over a hundred warships, including most of the Japanese fleet's carriers and battleships. They sailed with an air of confidence. In terms of shear tonnage it was unprecedented for a Far-Eastern power. It had enough firepower to rival the British Home Fleet. How could such an overwhelming force fail?

On board the fleet's flagship Akagi the mood was no different. Many of its pilots and crew were gathered in the main hanger bay. They were only hours away from the target. Mechanics were hard at work making last minute adjustments to the planes, ordnance men were wheeling in bombs and ammo belts, and pilots were standing in a circle psyching each other up for the mission.

Akira was alone, sitting off to the side watching and listening. Nearby he overheard a squadron of young pilots boasting about what victory they were about to have and the eternal glory that would be heaped upon them once they brought the beast down.

As he listened to the cocky spirits of the young flyers, it was starting to become clear to him why he had been put under a gag order. The other men on the mission didn't have the slightest idea what they were in for. The government had hushed the facts about the monster and what it could do. Beyond the few other surviving pilots from the first encounter, the men at the conference, and the higher ranks of the Japanese military, everyone else was in the dark about the true threat Rodan represented.

Beyond shear ignorance, there was another major issue Akira was starting to identify among the other pilots on the Akagi. Quite lot of them had taken part of the seek and destroy missions looking for Baragon. They were used to the monster running away and avoiding any contact with aircraft. It gave them an ego boost and an inflated sense of power. Akira knew both of those things would be deflated quickly once they came up against Rodan. In the sky it, would not run or hide from them.

Akira looked around the deck and realized that the buzz, excitement, and overconfidence was not limited to just one squad of cocksure flyers. No, the problem was far worse. It appeared to be all the pilots on board. They were all strutting around as if they didn't have a care in the world. Too long they had been at the top of the food chain in the sky. Too many easy victories in China. A harsh lesson was luring behind the clouds, waiting for them, and there wasn't much he could do to stop it.

"Hey Captain Akira, don't you think we'll be the first ones to have a crack at the monster?" One of the youngsters in Akira's new squadron yelled over to him. "Batu doesn't think so, but I told him we're the best pilots in the fleet and it's always best to lead with strength!"

"I think once were are up there you'd best keep your wits about you." Akira replied coolly. The young pilot looked puzzle. It simply wasn't the answer he was expecting. Akira wanted to say more, but if he did, he would be break his word.

An alarm bell erupted above them, bringing the short lived conversation to an end. The voice of the Akagi's Captain cracked over the intercom. He ordered his crew to general quarters. Rodan had been sighted on radar. It was not approaching the fleet, but it was flying over the Sea of Japan ahead of the fleet. The Akagi was to scramble all its squadrons.

Minutes later, Akira was in the cockpit of his fighter preparing to take off. He throttled up and his plane lurched forward, thundering down the flight deck. His plane caught air three quarters of the way down and he soared into the sky. The line of fighters behind him followed shortly after, launching one by one. After all the fighters were up, the dive bombers were next. The fighters climbed and circled the carrier waiting for the bombers to catch up with them.

Peering through his canopy, Akira saw the other carriers of the fleet launching their squadrons as well. The sky was quickly filling up with warplanes. The fighter director on the Akagi below started to issue out his orders and the cloud of planes began to organize themselves into a massive formation. Akira's squadron became a part of the left wing.

All said, there were well over five-hundred aircraft and it was impressive to see so many coordinating all at once. The formation took shape as the last squadrons got into place. Finally they were ordered to advance. The huge formation of planes pressed onward toward the horizon and battle. Akira felt a sense of awe with the amount of air power around him. He had never seen so many aircraft in one place before.

The sun had just risen in the east and somehow it comforted Akira in the cockpit of his plane. The rising Sun was the symbol of Imperial Japan and he felt as though maybe it was a good omen for the mission. He had been dreading this moment in his mind, but now that he was actually there it wasn't so bad. He had a job to do, he just needed to get it done and come back alive. Simple as that.

The fighter director radioed to the squadron to update them on Rodan's position and ordered them to adjust their course. The planes responded accordingly. Given the sheer number of planes, radio silence amongst the pilots was being strictly enforced. Excess radio chatter would be extremely disruptive. They were only to listen in to their orders. The exception to breaking radio silence was to report in the position of Rodan once they spotted the monster.

The planes pressed on and flew over a small island as they continued on course towards their quarry. Akira noted a small mountain peak and some huts dotting the beach. The simple islanders below might get a show. When the formation had closed to within a range of forty miles the fighter director crackled over the radio again. He updated the squadrons, letting them know that Rodan had changed course again. It wasn't clear how, but the monster must have somehow become wise to their presence. It was now coming straight at them.

Akira tensed up, thinking about the last attack. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind, but he could not help but feel anxious. They had been hoping to catch Rodan on ground. They were only to engage him in the air if that wasn't possible. The plan was already shot to hell and it hadn't even got off the ground. No help for it though, no choice but to press on. He just hoped sheer numbers would balance the scale.

The fighter director came back on the radio again, this time sounding more urgent. Rodan had rapidly closed to within ten miles of the formation and then disappeared off the radar. Akira had read the reports from the American fleet's action again Rodan and knew this could only mean one thing: The creature had climbed above the radar's ability to track it. Could Rodan somehow know it was being tracked and was intentionally climbing so high because it knew it shake them or was this simply how the monster liked to hunt?

"Watch out from above." Akira warned his squadron, using a separate radio channel only they could hear. He wanted to broadcast that message through his radio to the rest of the pilots, but would have to break radio silence to do so. He only hoped some of the other squad leaders were given the American reports to read too. Somehow he didn't think so. He watched breathlessly, waiting for a sign of the creature.

'Where is it...?' Akira thought. Moment after painful moment stretched by with nothing. He thought for sure they'd have seen it by then. The giant formation pressed on unopposed though the seemingly empty sky. Each pilot looked around in every direction without a sign of Rodan. The only thing that could be heard was the humming of the plane's engines.

There was finally a crackle on the radio from the fighter director. It was a warning, but it had come far too late to be of any help. Rodan rose from below the formation, crashing right through the center of it. The monster took out an entire squadron of planes just with its body and wings. The squadron directly behind the first were caught up in the wash of the force Rodan left in its wake. Most of them went out of control rolling towards the sea below.

The formation was so tightly packed that other planes collided when they tried to avoid Rodan and the planes he destroyed or disabled. In just one pass Rodan had taken out two and a half squadrons.

'Son of bitch must have been skimming the surface!' Akira thought to himself angrily. 'But why didn't the radar pick him up?' Then he realized the mountainous terrain of the island they passed earlier could have created a blind spot in the radar screen between the fleet and them. 'He was staying under the radar...'

The fighter director ordered the squadrons to break up the individual formations so they weren't all clumped up together and could maneuver. Though shaken, the pilots followed their orders, stretching out the formation. Meanwhile Rodan had risen above the radar screen and disappeared again. The fighters wanted to pursue and counter attack, but with no target in sight could do nothing but wait.

The formation came to and passed through a wall of clouds. Visibility was momentarily limited as the planes worked their way through the soup. When they came out, a section of planes were still in the dark and didn't realize they shouldn't be. A shadow was looming over the air-group, following their course and speed. Again, the flyers were too late to realize Rodan was right on top of them before it was too late.

Unlike last time though, Rodan did not swoop in and out. He remained in the midst of the planes and started to swat them from the sky rapidly. One of the pilots broke radio silence to report Rodan's presence, but the only thing the rest of the planes got out of him were his screams as his plane was torn apart and exploded around him.

The rest of his squad mates responded, trying to help out their besieged comrade. They pulled in behind Rodan and opened up with their cannons. Once Rodan felt the ammo hitting him, he dived down to avoid the fire. The lines of cannon fire streaked behind the monster trying to reacquire him, but found friendly planes along the way. At least two planes caught fire and trailed smoke as they fell out of formation. One of the surviving planes stalled as it tried to maneuver away from Rodan and the friendly fire.

As plane after plane was knocked out, the formation started to fall apart and general chaos began to set in. Most of the squadrons managed to stick together, but amongst the ones that had been attacked, or ones that were simply closest to the monster, it was degenerated into every man for themselves. The very sight of the monster was enough to inspire dread in the heart of many of the pilots.

The radio silence rule went right out the window as discipline broken down and panicked pilots began to flood the radio waves. Orders could not be passed along and there was no hope for coordination anymore. The center of the formation was a fur-ball of planes. It was a mess and the men stuck in it desperately needed help.

Akira had to resort to hand signals to his squad-mates to communicate as even their own radio frequency was bogged down by pilots from other squadrons desperately switching channels. Akira urged his men to follow him toward the center. As they closed in, Rodan's jaws snapped down on the tail and left wing of a bomber he was chasing. The bomber's wing snapped right off and the remaining portions of the aircraft began to spin and tumble from the sky.

Akira's group pressed in, followed by some of the other contingents of the left wing who had decided to follow him too. The fighters depressed their triggers and showered Rodan in a hail of bullets. Rodan broke off his pursuit of the plane he was after and came right at Akira's group.

The monster came noise to noise with them as they continued to fire. He passed just a couple of feet below Akira's plane, which was close enough to push it higher as it went by. Two of Akira's wing-men weren't as lucky. Their plane's disintegrated as Rodan rammed directly into them. Several other planes were throw off course as it passed.

The flight groups that had followed Akira's had similar outcomes to their attacks, several lost planes with no clear damage inflicted in return. Rodan pressed on and attacked other squadrons who were less prepared. It was more than clear by this point that machine guns and cannons were not going to get the job done. They had bombers with heavier ordnance, but they were perfectly useless until Rodan landed.

The air-groups were getting cut to pieces one by one as the battle continued.

The Admiral in command was keeping close track of the situation. He could see less and less of his planes on the radar screen with each passing minute. He knew he had to do something and decided to move the fleet in closer to try to support his flyers. His intent was to use the guns of his powerful surface fleet to shoot Rodan down. If they could just get him out of the air, they'd have a fair chance.

The Japanese had a great number of battleships and heavy cruisers at their disposal. The strength of their surface fleet was formidable and battleships had been proven to be at least semi-effective against the giant monsters they had termed Kaiju in the past. The Admiral felt it was the logical next step given how disastrous the air battle was proving to be.

Minutes passed by as the the air-groups continued to take terrible casualties. The fleet pressed forward towards a showdown with the monster. The Admiral began to see the monster's handy work in the sky. He could see through his binoculars that planes were falling out of the sky regularly. The air battle had already been raging for a half-hour and he had little to show for it aside from the loss of many of his airmen and aircraft.

The admiral sent out an order for his planes to retreat and regroup behind the fleet. He was hoping the monster would follow them so he could concentrate his anti-air power in one good barrage.

The pilots struggled to retreat as they got the recall order. Rodan destroyed even more planes as they did, he was so fast and agile compared to them. It was heartbreaking to watch the futile effort of the airmen. Rodan followed the stragglers knocking them out one by one, but in doing so he found himself right where the admiral wanted him.

The order was given and the surface ships erupted with gunfire. Rodan was pelted with round after round, but quickly sweep his way out of the path of the majority of the fire. He came in low and before the gunners could make any adjustments and plucked a destroyer clean out of the water with his talons. Rodan continued to skim the water with the warship in its grasp until it came across the aircraft carrier Kaga. As the monster passed over the carrier he jammed the destroyer directly into the port side hull of the ship. The sound of twisting metal could be heard even inside of Akira's plane.

The crippled destroyer sat there for only a few seconds before its forward magazine exploded causing even more damage to the carrier it was stuck in. Both ships started to take on a massive amounts of water and sink.

Rodan banked sharply and used its claws to slash at the side of a nearby cruiser. It left a gash in the side of the ship that ran almost the entire length of the hull. The cruiser also started to sink from lethal damage the monster inflected. Their was little the men aboard any of the three ships that were attacked could do. The damage was simply too extensive for the repair crews to handle.

Rodan found its way to the next closest carrier and landed right on the deck. The monster brought all its weight down on the bow of the Shokaku and waited while the whole front of the ship dipped down into the water. The front sections quickly filled with water as the stern rose clear out of the water.

Several light cruisers were nearby and took aim at Rodan. They landed a number of hits with their main guns, but if they bothered the monster even in the slightest, it was not apparent. The battleship Kongo was also nearby and leveled its main guns at the monster.

They fired and one of its rounds hit the monster square in its armored torso. This time Rodan took notice. It rocked back and forth digging its talons into the flight deck of the carrier as it continued to sink below it. The monster nearly lost its footing as it tried to recover on its perch. It roared angrily and it took off. The sound of it could be heard throughout the fleet.

Rodan came at the Kongo and struck down at it as it passed. Rodan's talons gripped a section of the bridge and pulled it clear away from the ship. Still enraged, it sweep back down over the fleet. It came down close to the carrier Hiryu at an incredible speed. As it passed the flight deck blow right off the ship like a roof being torn off by a tornado. Two nearby destroyers were blown right over and capsized. The deck of the Hiryu flew around wildly until it fell into the hull of a cruiser, causing damage.

The admiral watched in horror as his fleet was being decimated. One of his subordinates handed him a piece of paper as the carnage continued. He looked down and quickly read it. Finally some good news had come in. A ground unit scouting for the nest had finally spotted something that looked promising. It wasn't too far away.

The admiral radioed for any of his planes that still had enough fuel to make an attack run on the nest. Akira got the message and his fighters, along with a two squadrons of dive bombers, broke away from the fleet while Rodan continued to lash out.

It took the the planes less than fifteen minutes flight time to reach their target. While they were in route the fleet started to have better luck against Rodan. The battleship round Rodan had taken to the chest had slowed him down some and his attacks became less deadly and frequent. He had been circling the fleet and periodically swooping down. He was still damaging and sinking ships, though not nearly as easily has he had before.

As Rodan came in for another attack on the battleship Fuso its main guns managed to get a second hit to his chest. Rodan sunk his talons into the side of the ship and tear enough of the hull away to ensure the ship would sink, but the latest volley was enough to convince him further attacks on the fleet were something he was no longer interested in.

Rodan retreated as heavy cruisers pressed in towards him. The ships fired several volleys of their main guns at the monster, two of which managed to strike him in the left wing. The monster lost speed and altitude. It seemed like the fleet was finally starting to gain an advantage in the fight. Rodan hit the water and the Admiral ordered all ships to move in.

Just as things were starting to look in their favor, the radar officer spoke up with a warning.

"Admiral, I have a second radar contact incoming!" He revealed that their was another large blip closing in on the fleet. Worse, he noted it appeared to be similar to the signature of Rodan. No one exactly knew what to make of it, but it was coming in from the North and moving fast.

Meanwhile Akira's planes had reached their target. The nest was made up mostly of hundreds of trees that had been completely uprooted and dirt. The planes wasted no time, they dove down and unleashed ten-thousand tons worth of bombs. The nest and everything around it were obliterated in a series of explosions. The planes turned around and circled to observe the damage they had inflected. they saw that nothing was left of the nest but burning debris. Satisfied with the attack, Akira signaled for his men to return to the fleet.

Back at the fleet, the situation was growing more dire. The radar contact had closed to just a few miles and was about to reveal itself. The admiral ordered what remained of his fighter pickets to intercept whatever it was, but they hadn't gotten far away before it was right on top of them.

To the horror of the Admiral, a second Rodan burst from the clouds and flew through a dozen aircraft as it made its way towards the first Rodan on the water. It came in low and capsized yet another destroyer. Then it used it's talons to rip the turret off of one of the heavy cruisers closing in on the other Rodan and dropped it on one of the other warships along the way.

The momentum of the battle had shifted as the heavy cruiser's assault faltered. The second Rodan came back around and beat its wings towards the nearby warships, covering the retreat of the first one. The distraction of the second Rodan lasted long enough for the first Rodan on the water to flap it's wings and regain flight. Once the first Rodan had made it a safe distance away from the fleet the the second one joined it.

Moments later it became clear where they were going. The fighter director came over the radio once again and warned Akira's flight group that the Rodans were headed in their direction. Akira was puzzled and asked that he repeat the message to confirm that he in fact meant 'Rodans' and not 'Rodan'. The director confirmed the transmission was correct and that he meant the plural.

Cold sweat formed on Akira's forehead as he looked up to see that there were in fact two Rodans pressing in on his flight group's position. Though they were just ever-growing dots, they were already within visual range. They were much faster than his fighters. It would not take them long to arrive.

Akira knew that their weapons were no good against them and they had no chance of getting away, so he decided to do the only thing he could. He put himself on course to ram right into the closest Rodan. If he could hit one in the face, maybe it would distract both of them long enough for the others pilots to get back to the fleet. There was no room for error. To ensure his plane struck home, Akira decided he'd have to remain at the controls this time to guide it in.

"For the good of the homeland" He said to himself almost like a prayer. He corrected his course to line up directly into the monster's flight path as they pushed in closer. Then something happened that shook Akira. As the Rodans closed to a thousand yards they veered off to the right and retreated northward. Akira almost felt cheated as he saw them leaving the battle area. 'Where are they going? Don't they want revenge?' He thought puzzled.

In the aftermath of the battle, a close investigation revealed that there had been no eggs present in the nest. It was concluded that the Rodans had retreated simply because there was no longer a reason to fight. As the location of there current nest had been discovered, it would simply be easier for them go somewhere else and build a new one.

The Japanese had managed to drive the Rodans out of their territory, but the victory had bought them very little. Rodan was still at large, and worse, they had discovered that there were in fact two of them now. The cost in men and equipment had been high. The Japanese naval forces had lost over a quarter of their combat aircraft and nearly an eighth of their warships, including six capital ships and a handful of heavy cruisers. All said, nearly five thousand Japanese servicemen had died in the operation.

The debacle was a disaster for the Japanese government. They had to explain to their angry citizens why so many of their soldiers had died for so little.


	10. Chapter 10: The Watershed

Chapter 10: The Watershed

Admiral Ryan climbed down the steps into the archive to find Penwood waiting for him with a hot cup of coffee and pile of fresh files. Penwood seemed to perch up when he caught side of Marcus.

"Good morning Penwood." Marcus greeted him. "You seem a bit more ready for day two than I am."

"That's a affirmative sir." Penwood replied. "It's an interesting story and I like the way you tell it." Marcus only stood and stared the young clerk. He found it odd that he was so enthralled by the tale.

"I've been curious about something Penwood." Marcus began. "You seem surprised by the events as they are unfolding, surely you should have learned something about this before? How is it that this all seems new to you?"

"Well sir, I was home schooled." Penwood began to explain. "My mother was perhaps a little over protective and very religious. For obvious reasons, I don't think she wanted me know too much about what actually happened. Of course, I had friends growing up who would tell me things. But the stories of children don't give you the whole picture. In fact, only a small fraction of it thus far. So, in many respects, I'm hearing the truth of things for the first time."

"Ha, well I know a little something about overbearing mothers." Marcus laughed. "They always want to protect us from the world, but sometimes the best protection is getting out there and seeing things for what they are, growing to understand them. Ignorance is no defense. Fathers on the other hand know the value of throwing a child into the deep end of the pool and watching them learn how to swim themselves. Then again, maybe a little guidance from time to time isn't so bad...?" He smirked. "It takes all kinds."

"There are three types of people when faced with danger Penwood. There are those who run away at the first sign of trouble, those who freeze up not knowing what to do, and those who rise to meet it head on. I tend to admire those who choose to fight, but as a species as a whole you need each. Those who run away usually survive. Those who freeze get to see the outcome for those who fight and learn from it, good or bad. And if no one ever stood their ground, our race would have perished long ago. Anyhow, you aren't here to listen to a philosophy lesson, you are here for a story." Marcus changed gears. "Where did we leave off?"

"Here, I marked it." Penwood slid a file over to him, it was titled: 'The Battle of the Yellow Sea'.

"Oh yes." Marcus nodded. "The Japanese had just got their bells rung by the Rodans. To put it into a more realistic perspective for you, they lost five capitol ships, four heavy support ships, and several destroyers. Also a score of other ships that had taken heavy damage during the battle. Their losses in the air were even worse. About forty percent of the men and aircraft that participated in the skirmish were lost."

"Taken all together, Japanese losses would have cost billions upon billions of dollars if tallied in today's money." Marcus continued. "And this was on top of the ships they had lost earlier in the year fighting Angirus. It was truly staggering blow for any country. The Japanese would rebuild and they would remain a power, but their naval dominance in the Western Pacific was shattered that day. They were no longer an immediate threat to the Chinese, the colonial powers of the region, or us."

"Now you're probably wondering to yourself, if capitol ships are so costly to replace, why bother?" Marcus asked. "Well I'll tell you, having a strong navy makes you a player on the world stage. Big guns equal clout and prestige. It is true of most powerful nations today, and it was certainly true for the Japanese at that time. Just a few decades prior they were seen as a second, or even a third rate power, but then they defeated the Russian's Grand Fleet in the early 1900s and they continued to develop more powerful warships in the years that followed. That victory put them in the international spotlight and they wanted to remain in it. Navies are expensive, sure, but they are a projection of a nation's power away from home."

"With enough influence and trade you can take over the world." Marcus continued on. "The British are probably the best example of turning navy power into just power. They certainly never could have build the British Empire without their strong naval arm. I suppose in a sense, a navy is like a high stakes bet. The investment is big, but the reward can be even bigger. Anyhow I'm getting off track with my naval rant, back to the subject at hand..."

In the Yellow Sea, Akira was circling the carrier Akagi in his fighter. He was biding his time, waiting for his turn to land. His fuel gauge was inching its way closer to the red line, but he was calm. He knew exactly how far you could push a zero before it would give out. The sun was hiding behind a wall of clouds and the wind was picking up.

Even from a thousand feet above he could see the Japanese fleet had taken a beating. Ships were still burning and sinking in the sea below. Bodies of sailors were littered all over in the water, some living and some already beyond help. Their white uniforms stood out starkly against the dark waters. Vessels that were undamaged lowered down nets and were taking on the crews from other ships that weren't so lucky. Though there was an urgency to get the survivors out of the water, it seemed as though the action of the day was over. The Rodans had retreated northward out of radar range, which made the Japanese feel a bit more secure.

After ten more minutes of circling, Akira landed back on the Akagi. He taxied his fighter to the flight deck's elevator and was immediately brought down inside the main hanger to be inspected for battle damage. Once the plane was brought to a halt below Akira jumped down from his cockpit and surveyed his surroundings. The hanger deck could not have been any different from what it had been early in the day.

When they had left, the room had been full of the commotion of cocky pilots rearing for action. Now it was as quiet as a tomb. Despite being one of the last flyers to set back down, Akira still found the hanger with less than half the numbers than when they had set out. He could see one of the other pilots just sitting on the floor with their backs against the bulkhead staring down at nothing in particular. The rest appeared to be processing what had just happened.

It was a dismal scene. They had been decisively beaten, and point of fact, it hadn't even been a contest. They had been army of mice trying to assault a Lion's den. The truth of the matter was starting to set in. Bravado had been their pet in the outset, but only in the aftermath of the fight did they realize just how futile the effort had been. As the pilots stewed on this fact, tempers started to flare. Someone needed to be held accountable.

Akira could see one angry pilot shouting at one of flight officers, demanding answers. He wanted to know why all his friends had been throw away like trash. His superior, not having a good answer, simply replied that it was their duty to die for the Emperor at time and place of his choosing. The answer proved to be unsatisfactory to the incensed pilot. He had to be restrained by the few remaining men of his squadron.

Oddly, in the wake of this flagrant display of insubordination, the officer simply walked away, ignoring the pilot. Akira got the impression that the officer secretly sympathized with the pilot and that he wished to avoid arguing or punishing him. Suffice to say it was a bizarre scene to be found on the highly disciplined flagship of the Japanese Imperial Navy.

Following the outburst, Akira surveyed the other pilots and crewmen around him and concluded most of them felt the same. Though they all keep quite about it, they all seemed to recognize the had been sent out into the jaws of death by their commanders. It was bad enough that they had been defeated, but the disregard for their lives from high command was a harder pill to swallow.

A few hours later, the fleet was recalled to Japan to regroup and reassess the situation. In the meanwhile, the Japanese did their best to track the Rodans. The radar stations set up on the mainland occasionally had hits, indicating that they were still flying northward. However, the tracking stations lost the monsters as they retreated even further north our of range of the last station in Hokkaido.

Several hours later, a small flotilla of destroyers and other patrol craft were dispatched northward into the Okhotsk Sea in an effort to relocate them, but with no success.

In Germany, government forces had converged on Essenheim following Varan's attack on the village. Emergency workers did their best to clear the streets of debris and find survivors. Amongst them they found Reinhart crawling around blindly in the rubble, still feeling the effects of being exposed to a massive amount of tear gas.

The rescue workers brought Reinhart to a makeshift hospital and began to treat him. Fortunately, tear gas does not generally leave permanent damage to the eyes. They striped Reinhart down, washed his contaminated clothes, and flushed his eyes with cool fresh water. There was time when such a thing would have embarrassed him, but not anymore. Not after what he had been through. He started to feel the burning leave his face for the first time in hours.

Though the residue was finally gone, Reinhart's eyes and throat were still inflamed from the prolonged exposure. The relief workers gave him water to drink and put him in a cot to recover. As he had been awake for hours, wandering around in pain, he was quick to fall asleep.

Reinhart's reprieve was short lived though. A few hours later, he was awakened to serve a solemn duty. The bodies of the villagers killed in the attack had been lined up along what remained of Main Street. They needed to be identified before burial. The majority of the villagers were either dead or in worse shape than Reinhart, so it fell to him to identify his parents and brother.

As he walked out of the tent, with some assistance from a soldier, his eyes were overwhelmed by the light of the midday sun. From Reinhart's perspective he might as well have been standing on the surface of the Sun. Even with his eyes tightly closed, the light was too bright for him. He was forced to retreat back into the tent temporarily to let his eyes adjust.

Inside the tent, there was only a sliver of light coming in from the tent flaps, but even that took a minute to tolerate. Eventually Reinhart's eyes caught up and he was able to sit there with his eyes wide open. With that accomplished, he was ready to try his luck outside again. This time he wisely began with his eyes shut and stood there while they adjusted little by little. Soon after, he was able to peek out with no trouble.

Though his eyes still hurt, in particularly when a sudden gust of wind would hit them, a peek was all Reinhart needed to proceed forward. The soldier led him back into Essenheim's broken streets. It was a blessing for Reinhart that he was unable to get a good look at his once beautiful home. But the memories of the night before started to come back none the less.

Still, it didn't stop Reinhart. The pair pressed onward undeterred until they approached the line of bodies. Once within sight, Reinhart's knees got weak as they drew near. Reinhart hoped the soldier didn't notice, but he did. Their pace had slowed considerably, but still, the soldier respectfully ignored it, saying nothing.

Step by step, they came closer to the line of bodies. Through his impaired vision, Reinhart started to recognize people he had know his whole life. In a village such as Essenheim, everyone knew everyone. Each step he took brought him past another friend or acquaintance. He saw Hannah, Mila, and Elena, the girls that had made such an impression on his brother the night before, Sven, the owner of the local pub, Hannes, the friendly baker, and finally he came to his brother Heinrich and his parents.

Each of them were battered and bloodied, shadows of who they had been, but undoubtedly once his kin. For Reinhart to see them like that was painful in all senses of the word. They were unnatural, lifeless, like terrible life-sized puppets staring off into space. Reinhart stopped breathing, his chest felt heavy. His eyes somehow burnt even more than before and a stone formed in his stomach. He tried to keep his composure, but it was of little use. Tears streaked down his face as he boiled over.

Seeing that Reinhart was upset, the soldier bent down, closed their eyes, and asked just one question: If he was certain. Reinhart only nodded, not capable of forming words, then urged the soldier to take him back to the tent. He had seen enough. Without another word they departed.

In the Soviet Far East, above the peninsula of Kamchatka, a cargo plane was flying supplies to one of the remote military outposts located in the frontier.

"This is Sergi to outpost K, Sergi to outpost K. I'm about a half-hour out from touchdown." The pilot radioed to the outpost.

"Outpost K to Sergi, we read you loud and clear." A voice crackled back on the other end, Sergi recognized it.

"Oh Boris, it's nice to hear your voice." Sergi greeted him. "Do me a favor and make sure our comrades on air defense duty today are aware I'm coming. It would really spoil my day to get shot at."

"Can do, comrade." Boris replied. "I'm looking forward to seeing what you've brought us this time."

"How are conditions down there? Am I going to skid on the runway?" Sergi asked, having done so before at outpost K.

"Negative. I think the boys knew you were coming." Boris answered. "Everything was cleared away yesterday. The weather today has been nothing but sunshine down here. I assume it is similar up there?"

"No troubles so far." Sergi reported. "Good day to be in the sky."

"Good, fly safe and I will see you soon. Signing off." Boris cut out.

"Goodbye Boris." Sergi put down his mic.

The plane was called 'Lucky Old Olga'. Sergi Yukov was a retired officer from what used to be the Imperial Russian Air Services now rolled into the Soviet Air-force since the Czar was overthrown. Sergi was lucky enough to avoid any red tape since the change in government. It probably helped that he severed with distinction and never made any waves.

Since becoming a civilian, he had been able to negotiate a contract to bring supplies to the smaller outlier bases littered throughout the strategically located Kamchatka Peninsula. The Russians maintained a large military presence there as it served as their main naval base in the Pacific. It guarded their Far East interests.

The supplies Sergi brought in were mostly of the "non-essential" kind. Of course he brought in the standard fare that was on the books, but his plane was fairly large, so as a side business, he also brought in certain items that were "off the books". Certain types of restricted food, cigarettes, alcohol, and other various things along those lines. Items the powers back in Moscow would consider "contraband", but to the soldiers in the middle of nowhere, they were anything but. As such, the men at the remote bases would pay whatever was necessary to get their hands on it. Sergi was fair though, he wasn't going to die rich off of them, but he wouldn't be poor either.

Such an enterprise in a newly communist society carried some risks and security had been tightened since the Japanese expansion in the region. Given the two country's recent history, the Russians had every reason to be wary of the Japanese. The Japanese stunned the world by defeating them in the Russo-Japanese War. It might have happened a generation ago, but the Russians had not forgotten humiliating defeat adn the Japanese had become ever more aggressive in recent years.

With the tension so high, Sergei's supply drops had become that much more important for the moral of the common Russian soldiers. For all they knew, the Japanese could land on their shores at a moments notice, so any distraction was a welcome one. When they saw Old Olga approaching their landing strip soldiers on the ground would come running out with fists full of rubles.

Sergi loved to fly and Kamchatka was a beautiful place to do so. The large peninsula was dotted by a ring of fire. It was the one place in Russia with a volcanic belt, containing around one hundred and sixty volcanoes, twenty-nine of which were still active. Night or day, they were a sight to behold.

Of course, Sergei had sense enough to avoid the skies around active volcanoes when they were being "particularly" active. Still, he always found it sad that travel there was so restricted. To outsiders, and Russians alike, access was very limited. The government saw the territory as so strategically important that you had to have a special pass just to set foot there. Luckily for Sergi, he happened to have one.

The minutes went by like seconds as Sergi surveyed the breathtaking landscape. Before he knew it, he was just a couple miles out from his final approach to outpost K. Sergi had not made a trip out there in about six weeks due to ongoing inclement weather. He figured they must have been long out of his wares since last visit. He smiled to himself, expecting he'd be getting a hero's welcome upon arrival. He would be like Cesar getting a Triumph through the streets of Rome.

Sergi banked Olga through a patch of clouds and hit some unexpected turbulence. He could hear bottles of vodka rattling against each other in their case in the hold.

"Yesh, air is out here is rough today." Sergi tightened his grip on the controls and the plane steadied. 'Boris could have warned me about the cross wind.' He thought. The turbulence passed and he relaxed again. "Better go check the goods real quick."

Sergi flipped on the autopilot on his consul and quickly made his was back to the hold. As Lucky as Old Olga had always been for him, he didn't trust the autopilot so much. He was always worried it would suddenly stop working. He crouched down and inspected the vodka bottles closely. After a quick glance he didn't find anything out of place and decided to head back up.

As Sergi stood up, he thought he saw a flicker of a shadow out the plane's side window. He carefully crept up to the window and looked out. He saw only blue sky dotted with white clouds.

'I must have imagined it.' Sergi thought to himself, almost laughing. Then he saw something out the window and the thought of laughter became a distant memory. "B`lyad!" He shouted as he ran back to the controls of Old Olga and immediately put the plane into a hard dive.

The nose of the plane was nearly pointed directly at the ground. Sergi was pushing the plane into a eighty degree dive, which was hazardously steep. Bottles of vodka slipped from their casing and started to break against the wall. One of the bottles found its way all the way up to the cockpit.

Sergi ignored it all as he continued to dive hard. None of it would matter if he didn't escape. Just as he came within a thousand feet of the ground the force of something large passing over him fast sent Old Olga into a tailspin. The plane continued out of control downward towards the ground. Sergi fought with the controls and somehow manage to regain control of the plane around five hundred feet.

Near panicked, Sergei looked into the mirror he had installed just outside of his cockpit to see if he could locate his attacker behind him. To his surprise, he was able to see it. To his relief, it was above and behind him, moving off. He signed, comforted by his near escape. He had somehow managed to dodge it and it looked like whatever it was had given up.

'Maybe it just didn't like being that close to the ground?' Sergi thought. He only had a moment more to consider the thought. As he continued to watch it move away through his rear view mirror, he had not noticed a second monster coming straight at him from the front. Sergi had just enough time to shift his gaze forward to see it a second before it hit his plane. The Lucky Old Olga disintegrated into a thousand pieces and Sergi with it.

Below, Outpost K was burning and the Rodans were moving towards outpost J located further north.

Meanwhile in the Philippines, Marcus was finally released back into full active service. Before even being officially discharged from the hospital, he was ordered to report to Admiral Nimitz's office. Lieutenant-Commander Williams, the admiral's aide who seemed to have it in for Marcus, was waiting and approached him as he was signed out of care.

Williams escorted Marcus across the naval yard and to the temporary office at naval HQ the admiral was occupying. On the walk over the Lieutenant-Commander didn't say a word to Marcus. He simply kept a stern military frown and lead the way, expecting nothing from Marcus, but to follow his lead. At last, the Lieutenant-Commander brought him to an office door and knocked. Marcus could hear the admiral's voice coming from the other side urging them to enter.

Upon entering, Marcus found the admiral reading over the battle report the Japanese had just submitted from the Yellow Sea. He looked skeptically at their figures. The admiral had sources within Japan that indicated the losses submitted report had been grossly underestimated. They were downplaying their huge naval losses sustained in just one day of combat. One could hardly blame them though, cooperation or not, it would be downright foolish to disclose to a rival power just how wounded they actually were. The Japanese didn't want to look vulnerable. Despite their ruse, Admiral Nimitz knew better.

Deceptions aside, the report did contain three facts that were very relevant. First, the Japanese had failed to strike a meaningful blow. Second, there were in fact two Rodans, not just one as everyone had assumed. Third, both monsters had retreated north, out of Japanese or Chinese territory. What the Japanese navy did, or did not, lose were secondary in the face of the other facts.

"Ah, Petty Officer Ryan. Glad to see you back to active duty." Admiral Nimitz greeted as he noticed Marcus. "Sit down, sit down. I'm assuming you are not up to speed, so take a look at this." He handed him the report summary. Lieutenant-Commander William's lip curled slightly seeing the confidence the admiral was extending to Marcus.

Marcus meanwhile, was oblivious to the commander's contempt. As he read the report, his emotions jumped from shock of their being two Rodans, to awe, reading about the Japanese heroics during the battle, to horror, as he read out the causality reports at the bottom. What particularly got to him was the hand-written note the admiral had put in about what he guessed were the actual losses were. His estimate was staggering.

"I can see the weight of understanding on your face sailor." Admiral Nimitz noted.

"Well, the reports spell it out pretty clearly sir." Marcus admitted. "It didn't go well, worse than predicted in fact."

"Yes, to say it went poorly is an understatement." The Admiral looked grim. "Regrettably, I don't think our navy would have performed much better in the Imperial Navy's place. A lot of men and material were expended for no practical gain. It was a tactical and strategic loss. The only thing that came of it is now we know we're dealing with two dangerous opponents instead of just one. And I'm not sure what we can do about it. These creatures have every advantage over us. They have no obvious weaknesses and we can't so much as touch them in the sky. I've been in the navy for a long time and I can tell you one thing: the future is in the sky. Carriers and air power are making the strength of the surface fleet obsolete. But now these things come along and dominant the sky. They're so fast and powerful, no plane can keep up with them and no plane has the firepower to even scratch them. Have no answer for how to deal with them."

"Maybe the correct answer is not to engage them?" Marcus suggested. "Why play a game we know we can't win?"

"You are suggesting we just give up?" Lieutenant-Commander Williams sneered.

"With respect sir, I'm just saying why engage on their terms?" Marcus answered. "I think we have to wait. To beat an enemy, you have to understand them. We certainly do not understand them, not yet anyway. We don't know what they are or what they want. Once we do, we can formulate a more practical plan to deal with them."

"In the mean time you just want us to let them run free and wreck havoc?" Williams countered. "We can't allow them to do that."

"I think that would be better than doing what the Japanese tried." Marcus argued. "We need to watch and wait. Sometimes doing nothing is the hardest thing to do, but it's the right thing to do."

"Well, doing nothing isn't an option if these creatures threaten our interests." Admiral Nimitz cut in. "There will be political pressure back home to do something and hell to pay if we do nothing, although I see the merits of avoiding full scale assault at this time. Perhaps we should just focus on a defensive strategy until a better solution to our problem presents itself? Fighters don't seem to be getting the job done. Investing in heavier AA cannons would be the most prudent move for now. We simply have to prepare however we can and hope for the best." Nimitz declared.

Just then there was a quick secession of knocks on the admiral's door.

"Admiral, we're getting news about the Rodans!" An ensign shouted excitedly from outside. "You need to come see."

Admiral Nimitz dropped what he was doing exited his office. He followed the ensign to the radio room within Headquarters. Marcus and Lieutenant-Commander Williams were quick to follow as well. As they entered the radio room, they found the radio operators in an uproar. They were frantically trying to keep up with incoming messages. It was a storm of paper.

"It started about a hour ago sir" The ensign began to explain. "We intercepted just one signal at first, but now we are getting flooded by maydays from Russian outposts all over the Kamchatka Peninsula." The ensign motioned for the group's attention to be brought to a map he had of the area in question. "The first signal came from here in the south". He put a red pin in the map to mark it. "The first thing we found odd was despite originating from a military outpost, the message was not encrypted in any way. That is peculiar."

"I see, go on." The Admiral urged him.

"Well, I think they were in too much of a hurry to get the signal out to bother with that. As soon as I saw the message come across, I made it a top priority, but the message was still in Russian, so its taken us a while to translate it. In the meantime, we've received several other frantic, un-coded messages. The follow up messages have been easier to translate as they share certain words and phrases that are in common with the first. They point to one thing: these bases are under attack by the Rodans." The Ensign pulled out a quick copy of the message transcripts so the admiral could see for himself. Words such as: "large", "bird", and "attack", were common in each message. It wasn't difficult to see the pattern.

"What else can you tell me son?" Admiral Nimitz asked.

"Following shortly after the first attack, two others happened almost simultaneously in different locations, just little bit northward, here and here." The ensign put two more red pins into the map. "Then two others here and here." He placed two more pins. "And right now were are picking up a signal from yet another base here that appears to be under attack presently." The ensign put in one final pin. "All of this in the space of just over an hour!"

"They are hitting them so damn fast." The admiral noted, sounding troubled. "Williams, bring me the strategic map of that area from my office." He ordered

"Yes sir!" The Lieutenant-Commander disappeared to fetch it. A moment later he returned and outstretched the larger, more detailed, map on the table for everyone to see. Admiral Nimitz put the smaller map next to it and looked back and forth, noting the locations of known Russian military facilities on the strategic map and seeing one by one they were being hit by the Rodans.

"It looks like they are clearing them out one by one sir." Williams noted.

"Yes, but how are they locating them?" The Admiral asked. "The Rodans are fast, sure, but in the time it's taking them to fly from one location to the other, destroying the bases and moving on, it's like they have a map of their own to follow. It's reasonable to assume if the Rodans spent enough time flying around they would eventually be able to find and destroy all the bases, but the fact of the matter is they are knocking them off in no time at all. Am I the only person impressed by this? Once they are done with one site they make a B-line to the next one. It's like they already know exactly where the Russian bases are."

"Maybe they do?" Marcus suggested.

"How can they know that?" Williams asked, sounded bewildered and a little frightened. "They're just animals!"

"That is true, but a lot of animals can detect things that we can not." Marcus pointed out. "My science teacher used to say that birds can detect the magnetic poles when they migrate and bats use sonar in flight to detect things around them. Maybe the Rodans have their own way of detecting things while they fly?"

"So what are these things using?" Williams asked.

"Perhaps they can detect radar waves?" Marcus suggested. "Something has been bothering me since the attack on our fleet in the South China Sea. I was sitting with the radar operator when we detected the first Rodan. At first, the creature's course was almost random, as if it was just flying around aimlessly, but once it came within a certain range, it made a B-line for the fleet. It was over a hundred miles away at the time, so there's no way it could have seen us at that distance, no matter how good its eye sight is. So, it must have had another way of detecting us."

"I agree with that observation, but the Russians bases on the Kamchatka Peninsula don't have radar stations yet." Admiral Nimitz pointed out, shooting down that theory.

"What about radio waves then?" Marcus asked. "Maybe these things are able to sense radio signals? If they are, then all the bases out there are obviously transmitting at this point, in a panic. And doing so would pinpoint their positions for the monsters to track."

"That... is possible." The admiral admitted. "If it is true, that would explain a couple things, particularly how the Rodans having been picking their targets. Ships, planes, bases. All of them would have radio equipment."

"We could test that theory by alerting the Russians sir." Marcus suggested. If the bases that have not been touched so far were to stop transmitting..."

"I'm afraid I'm not authorized to share any information with the Russians at this time Marcus." Admiral Nimitz interjected "Certain politics prevent that. If it were the Japanese, that would be another story, but the Russians are not part of our pact of cooperation."

"Politics...?" Marcus was a little shocked."But peoples lives are at stake!"

"Do not question the Admiral, he knows more about the situation than you do." Lieutenant-Commander Williams snapped at Marcus.

Marcus wanted to belt Williams in the mouth at that moment, but knew the consequences of striking a superior officer. It would not end well for him if he did. Though he felt conflicted about it, he decided to keep his mouth shut. He could only stand there and continue to listen to panicked Russian voices pour though the radio's receiver.

As the day pressed on, more and more Russian bases came under attack. By the end of the day, every single outpost on the map had been wiped off of it. Whatever the Rodans had planned for the Kamchatka Peninsula, they didn't want to share it with any human company. The surviving Russian military personal and civilians began to evacuate the peninsula next day. Marcus felt terrible having done nothing to help them. It was possible his theory was incorrect. If it was or wasn't, it almost a certainty that the Russians would have lost control of the territory anyway, but if Marcus theory was correct, many Russian soldiers might have been spared in the initial attacks if they had been told to turn their radios off.

Sensing Marcus' conflict about it, Admiral Nimitz came to him privately inform him why they couldn't warn the Russians. The primary issue was that Joseph Stalin had in fact just ordered the Red Army to invade Finland a territorial dispute. The invasion was a thinly veiled land grab and it was condemned by the majority of the international community. Many nations, including the United States, Great Britain, and France were sending Finland aid in the form of weapons and other supplies. Given the political situation between the Western Powers and Russia, sending the Soviets as warning signal might be perceived as treason in some circles in Washington, even if it was the humane thing to do.

The war in Finland was young, but had already bogged down into a stalemate. The Fins were fighting like hell, despite being outnumbered ten to one by the invaders. Each day, more foreign volunteers were arriving from the neighboring Scandinavian countries, all of which didn't want to share a boarder with the Soviets should Finland fall.

There were plenty of outside influences working again the Russians, but perhaps the thing that was slowing them down the most was coming from within Russia. Stalin's purges to the Red Army had a profound effect on their war machine's performance. As it turns out, killing the majority of an army's leadership causes some problems to crop up. The disproportionately heavy casualties on the Russian side were a sign of it.

The Fins possessed powerful natural defensive positions and the area was experiencing heavy snowfalls, both of which made advances for the Russians nearly impossible. Even with all those advantages, the Fins were still in a precarious position. Admiral Nimitz explained how a threat on the opposite side of the Russian frontier might make Stalin scale back his invasion plans. It might even lead to an end of hostilities.

Marcus had a hard time arguing the point, but it didn't stop him from feeling guilty. The common Russian people had not chosen the war, and they did nothing to provoke the Rodans, still, it was they who would suffer on both accounts.

As the days passed, no aircraft or ship was safe from Eastern Russia to Northern islands of Japan.

The Russians had learned a little from the failed Japanese assault. Their fleet assets in the area were evacuated just as quickly as they could be made ready to sail. The Russian military did everything they could to avoid an open confrontation with the Rodans, but they still wanted their peninsula back. Instead of a fight, they instead focused on just trying to get Rodans to leave their territory by other means.

Having seen the limited success the Germans had using gas on Varan, the Russians decided to use a similar strategy, only on a larger scale with something more hazardous than tear gas. They elected to use mustard gas left over from World War I. It would be a war crime to use it in war against other men, but there was no such rule for monsters and they had a huge stockpile of it. The Soviets moved in hundreds of truckloads of the gas into the peninsula and began making preparations to use it.

Unfortunately for them, the Rodans attacked within hours of their force's arrival, possibly due to the use of radio equipment to coordinate their efforts. To their credit, the Russians were able to deploy large quantities of the gas rapidly and even managed to launch it towards the Rodans before the monsters were able to inflict much damage.

But from that point on, the plan went completely south. The gas had not even reached the Rodans before they used their massive wings to cause hurricane levels of winds to blow the gas back into the Russian lines. The Russians had been prepared for friendly fire, so they were wearing protective gear. However, the strength of the winds the Rodans were producing were powerful enough to tear the suits as well as blow the masks right off men's faces, leaving them vulnerable.

Meanwhile, trucks containing canisters were flipped over and gas came billowing out of them. Nearly the entire Russian force was caught up in the deadly cloud. Thousands of men died from the effects of the gas and almost as many survivors lived, afflicted by the painful, blistery effects of the gas. Sensing the danger, the Rodans left the area to avoid the gas themselves. With their departure, the few men who were fortunate enough to have avoided gas exposure gathered up the many, many, others more who were afflicted.

Hours later, those who could still be saved were loaded up in the trucks and the Russians retreated. By all accounts, the action was a horror show. Nearly all the survivors were blistered from exposure. The Russian's first attempt to retake their land failed miserably.

A day after the failed Russian attack, Marcus was called back to Admiral Nimitz's office.

"Marcus, I wanted to tell you that Washington has been in contact with the French Government." Admiral Nimitz began. "They have been quietly negotiating American access to the egg they found. The War Department has asked me to put together a research team to send over. I would like you to come along."

Marcus felt unsure and it showed.

"I won't order you to." Nimitz assured him. "Considering your recent experiences, I'd understand why you might not want to go. I know you've had... difficulties since our last trip out. Your role would officially be just as a member of my staff, but I've found your insights to these creatures invaluable so far. I feel you'd continue to be an asset to myself and our country."

Marcus continued to listen.

"We could learn a lot from studying that egg." The admiral went on. "The French are also concerned that the monster in Germany might hop over the boarder, if it were to reappear. At this point they can't seem to locate the darn thing. But I wanted you to know we are supposed to be there strictly as observers. We'll be staying far away from any action. We will only be there to gather intelligence."

"Aren't we just as useful here?" Marcus asked.

"If you mean the Rodans, well they are no longer our priority." The admiral answered. "They are a Russian problem now. Washington says as long as they are not threatening anything within our sphere of influence, we are to do nothing. Now, they may still present a problem for the Japanese on occasion, but we're more than happy to see them distracted as well. They can keep their war machine focused on something that is not us or our allies."

"Then I will do my part sir." Marcus saluted.

"I can tell by looking at you that you are still afraid." The admiral noted. "Don't be ashamed by that son, it's ok to be afraid. The trick is to contain your fear. Given some time, I see you doing great things in the Navy. I'll tell you something that has been useful to me: A good commander learns from his fear. It makes you more careful, less likely to waste lives needlessly. A man who can master his fear is a man to be feared, because he can do anything."

"Yes sir." Marcus found some wisdom in the admiral's words. He still felt reluctant, but the mission seemed safe enough, and no man would be able to call him a coward.

In Germany, a week had passed since the attack on Essenheim. Reinhart had fully recovered from his exposure to the gas, but had not recovered from the loss of his brother and parents. They had buried them a few days ago and he'd been living in a fog ever since.

The search for their killer was ongoing. The fact that the monster was still out there and could strike again somewhere else at any time weighed heavily on Reinhart. He mostly just spent his time sitting in his family's house watching the lake from where the creature had come. It was ironic, because he hated being there, but had nowhere else to go.

The German authorities had been searching the countryside for days with nothing to show for it. Finally, it occurred to them that the monster might have just retreated back into one of the various lakes in the region. The heavy rainfall over the last couple of prevented them from being certain either way.

Overcast skies made it hard for search planes to adequately scout and made finding a trail equally difficult for teams on the ground. Foot soldiers would find trees down here and there, but the rains that had come through had been accompanied by strong winds as well. Identifying what was potentially the monster doing versus what was due to mother nature was tricky business.

Fortunately for the search teams, the sun finally prevailed on the fourth day. Clear skies meant German planes could get out in force and cover a great deal of ground quickly. After spending two days patrolling the countryside, they had managed to methodically cover almost every corner of the Reich.

The planes came up empty too. Having found nothing, it lead those in charge to believe the creature had indeed retreated back into one of the lakes. The trouble was they had a lot of places to search.

Before completely disappearing, it was clear that the monster had been all over the area. The area in question had twenty major lakes that were large enough for it to hide in. With all the rainfall it was impossible to guess which one was more likely. Each of them had considerably higher water levels than normal. Since the rain had not been distributed evenly, saying it was in one lake over another due to the water level being higher wouldn't necessary prove anything.

Such as it was, their only recourse was to search each of them individually. To help speed things up, special sonar equipment was brought in to search the lakes. It took a few extra days to gather them up and fly them in, but it was worth the effort. Otherwise they would only have divers to rely on, which despite their best efforts, could only do so much good. Visibility in most of the lakes wasn't too good. Still, the divers were brave men. If they were lucky they wouldn't find anything down there.

Searching each of the lakes was taking a considerable amount of time. When they finally came to search Lake Hessengart, Reinhart elected to join in their efforts. He was happy to have something to do. It gave him a welcome distraction from just sitting at home and stewing on his grief.

As it just so happened, one of Heinrich's good friends from the Wehrmacht's intelligence branch came to his funeral. Reinhart approached him and found out he was helping to coordinate the search for Varan. Reinhart asked the intelligence office, named Fritz, and he agreed to give him special permission to pitch in.

By this point, it had taken nearly two weeks hopping from lake to lake, clearing them one by one. In the end, they were back at Hessengart. Reinhart knew in his heart of hearts the search would end where it all began. He spent all day helping them move equipment and watching the water. He even let the military use his family's house as a base of operations.

As day turned into night, Reinhart was shocked as they announced that Hessengart too had come up clean. He thought it must have been some type of mistake. The creature couldn't have been anywhere else, they had already searched everywhere else. To humor Reinhart, they did the sonar sweep twice, but there was nothing.

Reinhart was not alone in his frustration. The military had spent two weeks searching, clearing lake after lake, and in the end they didn't locate Varan. The authorities were puzzled to say the least. They had been banking on Hessengart being the most likely place they would find him as it was his place of origin.

As they had been searching, ruling out other places, they had been moving in tank divisions from the north nearby in anticipation of the monster reappearing from there. Given that they had no idea where the monster was, their plan was out the window.

Marcus boarded the flight with Admiral Nimitz that would to take them the majority of the way to France. The Journey was long enough to where it was actually going to be several flights and a short ride on a ship for the final leg.

Marcus was still uncomfortable flying, but he had a much easier time with his second takeoff knowing what he was in store for. The first time around he avoided even looking out the window as it gave him anxiety and made him feel a little dizzy. On his second flight out from China he was too out of it to be bothered by anything. This time though he was actually starting to enjoy himself a little.

Instead of being afraid of the takeoff, he got a little thrill out of it. And while in route to their first stop he looked out the window with only minimal trepidation. It was so different to see the clouds from that vantage point and not just looking up at them from the ground.

Back in Germany, Fritz and Reinhart were in his family's house looking over a map of the area. They were searching for an answer that was escaping them, reviewing the order in which the searches had taken place. One by one they crossed out each lake as they went.

"I don't see any gaps in the search." Fritz noted. "I've checked an double checked. We didn't miss anything."

"Is it possible that the creature could have "lake-jumped" from one you had not investigated yet to one you already cleared?" Reinhart asked.

"I suppose, but I don't see how." Fritz replied. "As a precaution we left some troops stationed at every site after we moved on to other locations. There have also been reconnaissance flights over the entire area the entire time. I don't see how something that big could have avoided detection from both."

"There must be something we're missing." Reinhart sighed. "Some detail that would explain the monster's disappearing act." He sat staring off into space trying to think.

"Don't get too discouraged Reinhart." Fritz put his hand on his shoulder. "Your brother was good at his job because he never gave up once he set his mind on something. He once told me you were smarter than he was, prove him right."

Reinhart smiled, but continued to stare off until his eyes came across his father's old bookcase. He saw a particular title wedged in the middle that caught his eye. It was titled: 'The Watershed'. Reinhart got up and picked up the book, then thumbed through it. He stopped on a page where something caught his eye and read for a moment.

"Oh no..." Reinhart whispered to himself. "Oh no." He said a little louder.

"What?" Fritz took notice, seeing that Reinhart's demeanor had shifted.

"Well, this book talks about the topographical features of this area." Reinhart began. "I just read a section that talks about the aquifer that runs throughout this entire area. In particular, there is a large underwater channel that run directly from lake Hessengart to Lake Muritz." Reinhart looked at Fritz knowingly.

"Is that true?" Fritz said, sounding a little alarmed.

"Look here, there's even a picture." Reinhart offered, putting the book down so Fritz could see for himself. The picture in question was an artist's interpretation. It highlighted the various layers of soil and showed how the flow of the underground channel connected the two bodies of water.

"I think we have a serious problem." Fritz grabbed his bag ran outside to the troops who had the portable radio.

At the same time in a restaurant on the shores of Lake Muritz a couple was sitting down to a nice meal. They had just put in their order and were passing the time waiting for their food by talking and enjoying the nice view of the lake out the window.

It was a perfect day. The couple had taken a leisurely stroll around the eastern bank of the lake. They were aware of the danger of the monster being in the area, but Lake Muritz had already been cleared several days ago and the 'muted' danger was exciting for them. It certainly hadn't stopped other people from venturing out. It felt like a lot of people were there hoping for a peek, from a safe distance of course.

The two love birds were staring into each others eyes when a large wave crashed into the window from the lake. The patio furniture that had been outside was all over the place and the large window overlooking the lake resembled a waterfall from all the water streaking down it. Amongst the cascade of water a form started to take shape. As the water cleared they had a better look at was outside the window and they realized too late that coming to the lake today was a very bad idea.


	11. Chapter 11: Treacherous Water

Chapter 11: Treacherous Water

Marcus had begun the second leg of his journey. His plane was halfway to French controlled Tunis in North Africa. Once there, they were to board a US navy destroyer, which would sail them the rest of the way to the research facility where the egg was housed in Southern France . The two long flights had taken their toll on Marcus' group. He, along with the rest of the passengers, were fast asleep.

Marcus was awakened by the sound of the radio crackling in the cockpit. He could not make out what the voice on he other end of the receiver was saying, but he heard the pilot reply back: "Understood." The radio chatter stopped from there and the pilot and co-pilot started talking amongst themselves for a moment. When they were done talking, the co-pilot unbuckled himself from his seat and came out of the cockpit. He quietly came up to Admiral Nimitz and tapped him on the shoulder to rouse him.

"Yes, what is it?" The Admiral asked, wiping crusts from his eyes and re-acclimating himself with the waking world.

"Admiral, we just got word that Varan has reappeared in Germany. Thought you would like to know."

"Have the Germans engaged it?" Nimitz asked.

"Not yet." The co-pilot answered.

"I see, thank you." The admiral dismissed the younger officer. The conversation had stirred Sgt. Brock and Lieutenant-Commander Williams. they had caught just enough of the conversation to know Varan was back on the prowl. Nimitz looked deep in thought, considering the situation.

"So what is Varan exactly? Lieutenant-Commander Williams asked.

"Well, beyond a monster, he's some sort of amphibian." Marcus answered.

"What, like a huge horned toad?" Brock asked.

"More like a horned salamander, because of the tail in all, but yeah." Marcus replied. "Of course, it's a lot more dangerous."

"I'm not sure what the big deal is." Williams said. "How dangerous can it be compared to what we've seen already? It's not heavily armored like Angirus, it can't breathe fire or go underground like Baragon, and it can't fly at the unbelievable speeds like the Rodans. Sure it's big, but that just means it's a big target too. And it can glide, so what? That just means fighters don't have to dive down to attack it. It's not incredibly fast in flight and isn't that maneuverable either. They outta be able to shoot it down easily." The commander said dismissively.

"You might feel differently if you saw one of these things in action." Brock shot back.

"We've been hearing for years now just how tough the German military machine has become, they should be able to handle it." Williams continued to be dismissive.

"I'd remind you that we've yet to kill even one of these things." Brock countered. "The best we've managed to do is deflect an attack or two. Nothing much to hang our hats on if you ask me. Until we find a way to kill these things, we are fighting a losing battle. So far we've just been hanging on by the skin of our teeth. That won't cut it forever."

"We've beaten them twice." Williams argued.

"Yeah, but on those two occasions we've managed to pull off what we generously call victories, they were both on ground that was well prepared ahead of time and of our choosing." Brock counter argued. "We're not going to be able to lure these things forever. What happens when one of them hits us somewhere that is not well prepared and not of our choosing? I think we're in for a nightmare scenario the first time ones of these creatures manages to hit a major city. And believe me, that day is coming."

"Having been on the ground in a small village when Baragon was on the warpath, I can tell you it's not something I'd wish on anyone." Marcus spoke up in support of Brock's argument. "We should do everything within out power to prevent that from happening again. And to Brock's first point, I feel like these creatures are intelligent, I doubt they will fall for the same tricks twice.

In Germany, Reinhart and Fritz were speeding their way towards lake Muritz in an army truck. They had tried to radio the patrol forces stationed there to keep a look out, but so far they had received no word back. Reinhart took it as a bad sign. Either the soldiers were too busy to respond, or unable to respond.

Their truck climbed the hill that overlooked the lake. As it came over the hill they got their first look at the situation unfolding. They could see Varan moving through the wooded landscape, tramping down trees as he went. It had just about reached a ridge on the far side of the valley. Below, the smoldering ruins of the restaurant remained around lake-shore. There was no sign of the guards.

Fritz stopped the truck. His eyes started to dart around the landscape, measuring the situation. As he did, there was a noise that drew both his and the monster's attention. The monster had just reached the zenith of the cliff it was climbing. It looked back and saw a platoon of tanks filing out of the woods on the opposite side of the valley. Fritz had radioed the armored division while in route as a precaution. It was a wise decision as it turned out.

Reinhart was less measured than Fritz, his blood boiled at the first sight of the monster. It was a mixture of hate and terror. His head was filled with hopeless notions of revenge for his family. In the space of a second, he relived every terrifying moment of Varan's attack. His only solace was his hunch was right on the money about the monster using watershed to avoid detection and the tanks closing in might be able to exact some revenge on his behalf.

As it turned out though, the tanks were too late and too far out of range to be a threat to the monster immediately. It simply ignored them and leap into the air, gliding down the other side of the hill. The monster was able to stay just high enough to skim above the treeline, avoiding rocks that jetted out along its path. It landed safely at the bottom.

From his vantage point, Fritz could see the path the tanks would have to take to catch up with the beast. He radioed the platoon leader of the armored column to rerouted his units in that direction. The tanks quickly started to move to the road that would take them into the next valley. Just like that, the chase was on. The heavy tanks struggled up the hill at 25 miles per hour, while Fritz and Reinhart speed ahead of them to get a better read on the situation just over the next horizon.

As he drove, Fritz radioed in their position and situation to Headquarters so other Wehrmacht forces could be alerted and converge on the area. He hoped they would be able to cut off, or at least slow down, the monster long enough for reinforcements to catch up. He wasn't confident what they had on hand would be enough to get the job done.

As Reinhart and Fritz came over the hill they sighted Varan again. The monster was surprising agile for something its size. It could move fast when it wanted to. Fortunately for them, it had slowed down. The monster must have felt secure that it had left any threats safely behind it.

Reinhart and Fritz were about halfway down the winding roads of the hill when Headquarters radioed back to them. They advised Fritz that a second armored column was close by, just a couple miles ahead of the monster. They were on the way, getting into position to block its path. Fritz spotted another good vantage point and pulled off the road. The spot served his purpose perfectly. Once stopped, he grabbed a par of binoculars from under his seat.

By that time, the panzers that were following started to crest the hill behind them. Varan meanwhile was still in the valley below. It was marching onward care free, seemingly unaware of them. Fritz shifted his sights to the other side of the valley to look for the second tank platoon. They were not there yet, but they would be any minute. Once they arrived, Varan would be surrounded and the assault could begin.

As Varan got halfway through the valley, tanks on the far side ridge began to arrive. The monster spotted them and stopped. It seemed to be considering what it should do next. Varan roared out a warning, not understanding what the tanks were, but recognizing them as a threat by their aggressive advance towards him.

Seeing them as hostile, Varan had to decide if he should fight or flee. His enemies might be small, but they were numerous. About the same time, Varan became aware of the first tank column approaching from behind him. Watching Varan through his binoculars, Fritz thought the monster looked distressed when it realized the tanks had followed him from the other valley too. Only then did it realize that it was being stalked by what it saw as little hostile creatures.

The tanks were still out of range, which bought the monster a little time to think. It looked around, considering its environment. To the left there was a steep hill that would be difficult to climb. It would likely come under attack while trying to escape if it went that way. But to the right there was salvation, a small lake. It didn't take Varan long to decide what he should do next. It bolted for the water as both tanks columns closed in.

Varan rushed forward and splashed into the water, sending giant waves in its wake to both sides of the lake's shore. The waves pushed far beyond the tree lines surrounding the lake before retreating back within their normal boundaries. It took Varan mire moments to swim across the entire lake. As it got to the other side it looked back, as if to see if the tiny hostiles were able to traverse the water as well. It sat and waited.

The panzers caught up and stopped short of the lake, getting into position. Fritz noted Varan almost looked pleased when the tanks pursuing it stopped at the waterline. The tanks however had not given up. They had finally managed to close within firing range with their cannons and opened up.

A cluster of shells arched over the waters of the lake in a near-synchronized attack. They quickly found their target on the other side. Each shell landed on the tough armored carapace over Varan's back. To the shock of Fritz and Reinhart, the monster barely seemed to noticed them. There was no noticeable damage as the ammo popped against the sturdy armor.

The German tankers were equally surprised by the ineffectiveness of their attack. The tank commander however was undeterred and ordered a second volley. He instructed his men to readjust their sights and the panzers thundered off a second time. Some of their shots hit Varan a little lower than the first volley, hammering against its legs and belly and avoiding the more sturdy back armor. This time Varan did take notice. There was still no noticeable damage, but at least it reacted to the explosions.

At this point, the tanks that were not already in ideal firing positions started to make their way around the edges of the lake and Varan took notice. Again, the monster watched and appeared to measure its options. Surprisingly, Varan once again decided to move off, leaving its attackers safely behind it. The tanks were not fast enough to keep pace and it seemed to recognize that.

Fritz and Reinhart put the truck back into drive and took off after it. Meanwhile the monster was putting more and more distance between itself and the tanks with every passing moment. Fritz updated headquarters to the developing situation and in return they notified him that air support was in en route.

The Luftwaffe arrived on the scene just minutes later, or at least a small portion of it had. What they had at their disposal was not not the whole German air force, but rather the a collection of the few assets that happened to be on patrol in the area at the time. They had been patched together to form a makeshift attack force while other planes were being scrambled at that very moment from nearby bases. Trouble was, they wouldn't arrive for at least twenty-five more minutes.

Until then, it was up to the handful of aircraft to slow the monster down. Slowing the monster down was exactly what was needed at that moment. The tank's failed assault had altered Varan's path and it was now on a crash course towards a tiny village.

With everything happening so quickly, there had been no time to alert the villagers to the immediate danger. So many Military aircraft flying over them probably should have been an indication to them that something was wrong, but warplanes had been flying over so frequently in the last couple of days on regular patrols that it didn't alarm them the way it should have.

As it stood, it was squarely on the pilot's shoulders to prevent disaster. The aircraft they had on hand in the motley flight group were a mixture of Messerschmidt 109 fighters, Junkers Ju 87 dive bombers, junkers Ju 88 medium bombers, and Heinkel He 111 medium bombers, nothing super heavy. Still, they were the only hope for the citizens in the village below. They quickly developed a plan, dividing into two attack wings. The fighters would come in low with their machine guns to distract the beast, and hopefully do some damage, while the bombers would hit it from above.

Trouble was, it wasn't clear how tough the beasts armor was. The Germans had obtained information about previous assaults on the other monsters. If Varan's armored plates were anything like Angirus' they would be wasting their time, but if it was more on par with Baragon's then they might stand a fighting chance. The pilots didn't figure they would be able to kill Varan anyway, but they hoped they could at least get it to change course if they harassed it enough.

The first group of planes came in for their attack and Varan spotted them immediately. He stopped in his tracks, and like with the tanks before, he appeared to be trying to figure out what the planes were. When the first 109 pilot opened up on him with its machine guns, Varan knew they were just like the tanks, hostile. Unlike before though, the monster had run out of patience. This time it would not avoid the fight.

A second fighter the swooped down and got a nasty surprise. Varan leap up into the air and caught the plane with its mouth and talons. The aluminum fuselage of the air-frame easily bent under the pressure of Varan's closing jaws, crushing both the aircraft and its trapped pilot. Somewhere along the line, the fuel tank caught fire and the plane exploded in the monster's mouth. The explosion did not injure Varan in the slightest, but he did seem surprised by the pop and sudden taste of fire.

Varan stopped for a brief moment, confused by the taste and texture of metal. Perhaps it had expected the plane to be some type of organic pest it could eat? The machine elements were very alien to the ancient amphibian and he didn't like it. He spit out the flaming wreckage and moved on.

Above him, the first dive bomber had gotten into position and dropped its payload square onto Varan's back. The answer to just how durable the monster's armor was quickly became apparent. The resulting explosion didn't even make him flinch. The rest of the pilots watched in horror as they realized just how outmatched they were. Any thoughts about killing the monster with bombs evaporated.

Unwilling to give up, a medium bomber pilot was the next to attack. It carried several heavier bombs than the dive bomber, but despite this advantage, the attack was even less effective. Dive bombers had the advantage of putting their payload right on target by getting in super close and guiding them in. This was not the case with traditional bombers. Even low flying medium bombers relied on a lot of luck for accuracy. Out of the twelve bombs released by the Heinkel, only one of them was a direct hit and the monster showed no more regard for it than the first hit.

Varan pressed on, unimpressed by the firepower the planes. It managed to snag another aircraft when a Junker bomber tried to press in too low. The pilot tried to pull up when he saw he had caught the monster's attention, but it was already too late. Varan jumped up for it. While the monster failed to catch the plane with its jaws, it did manage to cleave off the wing of the plane with the sharp spines running up its back.

Having lost a wing, the bomber went completely out of control. One crewman somehow made it to the side door with a parachute to escape the doomed aircraft, he even managed to jump out, but the surviving wing of the plane struck him after he jumped out. The man was pulverized by the impact and his chute never opened. He hit the ground along with the aircraft. The bombs still within the bay of the plane exploded the second it hit the ground. The resulting fire narrowed the already slim chance any of the other crew were still alive.

After that, none of the other aircraft dared get in close to Varan again. They instead chose to harassed the monster at a safe distance with their machine guns and inaccurately dropped bombers from high above. The only good that came of it was the villagers were alerted by all the commotion. They sighted the monster and started the slow process of evacuating. The smart ones dropped everything and immediately ran for the hills, having heard in detail what befell to the residents of Essenhiem when the monster had come calling there. The less intelligent townsfolk tried to pack up and bring their belongings with them. It would prove a fatal miscalculation for some.

Despite the best efforts of the Luftwaffe pilots, Varan had not changed direction. It spotted the village and stubbornly held its course as bombs and bullets fell around it. The monster crashed through the first few houses it came across, having learnt that smashing houses sometimes yielded snacks inside. It found a few.

The airmen above watched helplessly as the monster rampaged. Most of the aircraft had already expended their ammunition. There was nothing more they could actively do to help the situation. Their attack had been a wash, but it had brought about one positive thing. Their distraction had bought the ground forces following Varan precious time to catch up with he monster.

Varan was about halfway through the village when the tanks arrived on the scene in mass. They thundered down the main road and started to spread out along the treeline. Moments later they poured out of the forest. This attack was slightly better coordinated and effective than the first.

Fritz and Reinhart were again nearby helping to spot for the gunners. Anything hitting Varan above his armor belt might as well have missed, so accuracy was important. Unfortunately, anything hitting Varan below the armor belt only seemed to annoy him, akin to getting a slight pinch. The tanks just didn't have the firepower to do any meaningful damage.

After several more volleys, Varan did something strange. It came to a stop and remained still, making itself a perfect target for the tanks. The attacks paused for a moment. The gunners had been moving the turrets of their panzers to keep up with the monster's progress and they had to suddenly stop and wheel back to where they had been before.

When the first shell in the renewed attack hit Varan, it sent out a gush of fluid as it exploded against the monster's side. At first, the crews inside tanks thought they had finally done some substantial damage, but what had squished out of Varan was not blood. It was instead some type of frothy white substance.

Several more tanks fired, yielding similar results. The white fluid splashed all over the houses in close proximity to the monster. One of the panzers that had ventured in closer than the rest also got doused by a large quantity of the substance.

Fritz and Reinhart curiously watched the tank as the liquid started to sink into the crevasses of the machine, finding its way to the inner workings where the crew was located. Moments later, the men inside the panzer came boiling out of their machine. The only other time Reinhart has seen men move like that was when some of his friends had knocked down a hornets nest.

Whatever the substance was, it must have been extremely toxic. The men running from the tank appeared to be badly burnt from where the fluid had touched them. One of the men, the one with the most burn marks, dropped over in the street. Then another man fell. One after another, they collapsed until the entire crew was down.

The men had been moving like they were on fire only a moment before and now lay motionless. Reinhart could only assume they were dead. The display had an effect on the rest of the tank crews. None of them dared fire another shot for fear of spreading more of the toxic brew and sharing the same fate of their comrades.

Reinhart looked back at Varan, who was now dripping with the slimy substance. It seemed to be leaking out of every one of its pours. In fact, there was so much of the fluid that it was beginning to run up and down the cobblestone streets of the town. People who had still be hiding in their homes where forced to run out, wanting nothing to do with what was coming at them.

Though most of the tank crews had already figured out continuing the attack was ill advised on their own, Reinhart still heard the tank commander crackle over the radio ordering all units to hold fire, otherwise they'd risk spreading the unknown substance all over the area and exposing the retreating civilians. Clearly, attacking the monster would do more harm than good at that point.

Seeing that the attack had ceased, Varan began to move again. It left a trail of the secretion behind like a snail as he left, covering his retreat. The tank commander's first urge was to follow it through town, but doing so would to mean having to drive directly through the slimy substance and he didn't like that idea one bit.

Varan's new course was taking him along the only road going towards a mountain path, meaning there was no chance the panzers could directly pursue him without coming into contact with the slime-trail. Seeing little other choice, the tank commander was forced to order the armored column to go the long way around, avoiding the town and road all together.

Two hours later, after a very long detour, the column of panzers had just about caught up with Varan again nearby the Elbe River. They had been chasing the monster over rough terrain for the better part of three hours already and were down to less than half of their fuel tanks. If the chase persisted for much longer they would be in danger of running out of gas.

However, some good news had developed in the meantime. While the monster had been retreating northward, an artillery unit had arrived and they just might just have the firepower needed to finally tip the battle in the German's favor.

Varan had stopped moving, apparently resting. The use of its slime defense might have taken some of the fight out of it. Reinhart theorized that it could be slightly dehydrated given that it was an amphibian and had been away from a source of water for such a long time. The use of its odd ability probably compounded that issue. Fritz and Reinhart agreed on that much.

The break in action meant that the pair had time to examine the bodies of the men who had been exposed to Varan's secretions. It was clear that the men had not died from their burns alone. In fact, one of the men had barely been burnt at all. There was only a slight touch of it on his wrist. Still, the substance had killed him just the same as the others, it had simply taken longer. He was the last one to die.

Samples of the muck were very carefully collected from the streets and sent back and to the lab to be studied. Reinhart already had a working theory though. He felt that the substance was some type of poison. The burns were on the men were just incidental, a product of the extremely corrosive nature of the substance. However, that part was just meant to be a vehicle for the poison to enter the bloodstream of the victim.

If the the wounds were compared to other corrosive chemical burns, most of the exposed men would not have died, at least not as quickly. No, there was clearly something more at work. The deaths were in order of most exposed to least, which was not a coincidence. Higher exposure rates correlated directly with quicker deaths. None the less, any level of exposure still meant death within a matter of seconds. Clearly, whatever Varan was using as a poison defense was extremely potent.

However, what wasn't clear, was if there was a minimal level of contact a person could survive. Would a mere drop be lethal? Even less that that? Reinhart was aware of some frog species producing neurotoxins that were so powerful they could stop the heart of a grown man even with the slightest amount of exposure. This did not bode well and presented a big problem when attacking the monster.

Fritz walked up and pulled Reinhart away from his thoughts. They needed to get moving if they were to catch up with the tanks.

The Luftwaffe had arrived in force and had been keeping tabs on Varan in the meantime. They were keeping their distance. It had been decided that the tanks and aircraft would be held back while the artillery was set up in the hills above the monster. Planes and tanks made too much noise and would betray their approach. Both would simply stay on standby until the big guns opened up.

The Germans were quickly learning what was not working. They hoped that their artillery would have the right balance of firepower and accuracy the aircraft and tanks lacked individually in their previous attacks. If they could just get the right amount of firepower focused into the right area they might finally start having some effect.

Trucks quietly started bringing in the artillery into the hills above Varan and crews quickly put them together as discreetly as possible. All was going well. The cannons were all just about set up when a truck driver revved his engine a little too much fighting to get up a hill. The noise alerted Varan to the growing danger around it.

The artillery was still well hidden in the foliage and Varan was not able to pinpoint them. Still, he felt threat around him and his instinct was to retreat. The monster almost seemed annoyed that it was still being pursued. It had barely had a moments peace all morning.

With the sudden movement of the monster, the artillery crews were left scrambling to make final preparations for the assault. They quickly loaded three and a half inch shells into their weapons. The monster was moving away, but still well within range of their guns. The cannons began to roar and salvos began to shower down around Varan.

Unfortunately, the monster had moved far enough away by this point that the cannons had to be raised up and their volleys were firing in an arch, plummeting downward. The difference being the the artillery shells were landing on the armored back of Varan and not hitting him on the sides as planned.

Once it was clear that they had lost the element of surprise, the tanks were sent back in to pursue the monster once again. They followed the road on a cliff-side overlooking the monster at it retreated. This firing position was no good. It guaranteed all their shots would land above the armor belt like the artillery was. All they could do for the time being was continue to pursue it.

The artillery fire began to die down as the monster continued forward, slowly getting out of their range. The cannons could be packed up to follow, but it would be a a while before they could catch up. The monster had outmaneuvered the Germans again. The panzers were already starting to loose ground and it wouldn't be very long before their fuel reserves would run dry.

The decisive moment came when Varan found a bridge crossing along the Elbe river. Remembering from earlier that the tanks couldn't swim, the monster appeared to have gotten itself an idea. It changed course and climbed onto the superstructure of the bridge. The support beams gave way almost instantly under the creature's weight. Within seconds, the entire structure gave way and the bridge collapsed into the river below with Varan on top of it.

The river was swollen high with all the recent rainfall, but Varan was far too big to disappear into it. The water only came up to the very bottom portions of its chest. With the bridge destroyed, Varan crossed to the other side and looked back to see what became of its pursuers.

Reinhart and Fritz arrived about this time to witness the final moments of the battle. The tanks had come to a halt, still on the road overlooking the river. It was clear to the commander that they had lost the day. They certainly would not be able to cross the corpse of a bridge the monster left sticking out of the river.

Nearly out of fuel and out of options the Wehrmacht would have to concede victory to the monster. It could do whatever it wanted now and there was little they could do to stop it. They would have to regroup, refuel, and find another crossing to begin again tomorrow.

Marcus' plane finally arrived at the airfield in Tunis and a car was waiting to take them directly to the USS Reeves, a Mahan class destroyer, which was waiting for them in the harbor.

The Reeves was an aged destroyer that appeared to have seen its share of wear and tear over the years. Being used to the grandeur of the Enterprise, the Reeves inspired a great deal less aw. Marcus realized that he had taken for granted the majestic flagship while he was walking up the ramp of old beat up old destroyer.

He had a foreboding feeling climbing up the rails with his bag. A certain unspoken something was gnawing in the back of his mind, telling him the next leg of the journey would be no pleasure cruise. Marcus tried to push it out of his mind. The sun was high in the sky, there was a gentile breeze in the air, and they had places to be. His feeling of uneasy would have to take a back seat.

The Reeves was underway in less than a half-hour and Marcus was starting to settle down. Admiral Nimitz spent most his time on the bridge talking with the captain of the ship, the recently promoted Captain Shack. He was a man eager to make a good impression on the admiral.

Marcus only met Captain Shack briefly when he had come to welcome the admiral aboard, but he immediately got the impression that Shack might have been promoted a little too early. He had a nervous energy about him. When they left port he got distracted and forgot to order the anchor be fully raised. The Reeves damaged the vessel moored next to them with the chain attached to the anchor scraping their hull. Fortunately the damage was only minor, but still, a bad start to their journey.

If that wasn't bad enough, Captain Shack had also overlooked another important detail when they left. He had sent several members of his galley crew to get some supplies while in port so that he could make special dinner for the Admiral during the journey to France. Trouble was, he was in such a hurry to get moving, he had failed to realize they had not yet returned to the ship. He had sailed without them. A half hour out of port he realized his mistake and was forced to turn around and go back for them.

Once the crewmen were back aboard they once again got underway. Captain Shack then decided that they should test fire their torpedoes to demonstrate to the admiral they would be able to defend themselves if the need should arise.

Unfortunately during the test fighting a live torpedo was accidentally launched in place of one of the dummy torpedoes. A local fishing ship was in the area and had to be alerted to make evasive maneuvers to avoid the danger. The fishing ship was easily able to avoid the torpedo, its draft was too shallow for it to be hit anyway, but suffice to say, Captain Shack's attempt to impress the Admiral had fallen short.

From there, Captain Shack's only aim was to try to keep the Reeves afloat long enough to get his VIP passengers to their destination in one piece. The admiral understandable stayed on the bridge to ensure no more shenanigans would take place.

Meanwhile Marcus and Brock were sitting in one of the anti-aircraft stations near the stern of the ship talking to one of the crew members of the Reeves, a man going only by the name Smitty. He was a salty old sailor and seemed to reflect the spirit of his ship, rough around the edges, but experienced. He had been in the navy for a long time and seemed in tune with the ocean.

Smitty had a very low opinion of the captain and obviously didn't like being under his command. He sighted several incidents where he had made the wrong call while on the open water. There had been several times the ship may have met disaster if not for the insights of his executive officer. This made Marcus feel even more uneasy about the issues they'd had earlier in the day. He had hoped it was just having the admiral around causing the Captain to made so many mistakes.

Marcus took a long drink the Coke he had been given from the galley and put it back down. It was good, it made him feel a little better. The wind changed direction unexpectedly and the half full coke bottle was blown over. The bottle rolled down the deck and over the side of the ship.

"Shit." Marcus leaned over the side and watched as the bottle slowly sank below the waves. He notched the water had grown noticeable more choppy. Mere moments ago the waters had been relatively calm with the usual levels of bobbing up an down that he had grown accustomed to while at sea.

"Aw, well that's too bad." Smitty seemed somewhat amused by Marcus' bad luck with his soda. "But that's the sea for ya. She is a treacherous mistress. She'll encourage you one minute, then knock you on yer butt the next. Wise men respect her. I've been a sailor my whole life, seen many rare sights. Some good, some bad."

"What kind of things have you seen?" Marcus asked, accepting the loss of his coke.

"Oh plenty. Lets me see now." Smitty began. "I've seen seventy foot rouge waves come out of nowhere and capsize ships. Witnessed swimmers pulled away by a merciless riptide. I've seen the maelstroms of Norway suck down unsuspecting fishermen who go too close. Square cross-waves off the coast of California. The tides Monte St. Michel, which turn the fortress into a solitary island in a matter of minutes. Waterspouts in Florida come out of the water and rip up houses from their foundations. Red tides in India. Had a buddy disappear in the Bermuda triangle never to be heard of again. I've seen sharks twenty feet long burst out of the water to catch seals, but one of the worst things I ever saw was a Tsunami. Imagine if you will a wave ninety feet high hitting a beach at a hundred and fifty miles per hour, pulverizing everything in its path. It took hundreds of people with it. I was lucky enough to be perched on the rocks of a cliff overlooking the beach at the time with my sweetheart, otherwise I wouldn't have lived to tell the tail. It killed the mood."

"A thing like that would stay with you I'd imagine." Marcus noted. "But that's not the worst thing you've ever seen?" You said that was one of the worst things you've seen, what tops that?" Smitty looked at Marcus like he had asked something very taboo. He was quite for a second then looked around to see if any of the other crew were within earshot. When he saw no one was he went on.

"Those are just the normal things I've seen." Smitty began. "I've seen things that no one can explain. Might sound a little crooked if you catch my meaning. When I was young, I remember the old timers telling stories about mermaids, krakens, and the like and thought they were just the products of moonshine, boredom, and overactive imaginations. But I'll tell you truly, I've seem strange things with sober eyes."

"What kind of things?" Marcus was intrigued.

"Alright, I'll tell you the story." Smitty relented. "About fifteen years ago I was on watch duty on the USS Smith, a destroyer not unlike this one. This was after the Great War and tensions had long since died down. We were on our way Liverpool, England. Nothing important, just running some supplies. I think it was about half past midnight and I was alone in the crow's nest trying to fight off sleep. I had been out there for hours alone and most of the rest of the crew had long been asleep already. Well, it started out as a noise. Something I had never heard before. I've heard whale sing before, but this was nothing like that at all. It was a noise that no man or sea creature could produce. It was unearthly and it was getting louder. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up."

"Before I knew what was what, I saw a light moving under the water nearby the ship. And before you ask, it weren't no reflection from above, it was a moonless night. The landscape was pitch black aside from the visitor under the waves. Whatever it was, it passed right beneath the boat. The ship bobbed up from the wake of its passing. After passing us by it sank into the depths until the light vanished. Many are the nights where I sit by myself with a bottle of brandy and think about what it might have been. Nothing I've ever seen has made me loose more sleep than thinking about the noise it made.

"Could it have been a submarine?" Brock asked.

"It weren't no submarine, I can tell you that" Smitty replied. "I've been around them darn things since they were invented. There was something else in the water with us that night."

The Reeves pitched up with a high wave about that time, breaking up the tension. Marcus shook himself back into reality, caught up with Smitty's story. He hadn't noticed that the seas around them had grown even more unruly.

"Is the Mediterranean always this rough?" Marcus asked.

"No, Waves don't ordinarily get this big in the Mediterranean." Smitty answered before getting up to walk away. "I'd say something very nasty is brewing."

"Wait, what?" Marcus said worried. After all he'd just heard, he didn't want to know what fit into Smitty's definition of nasty. Smitty continued to walk away ignoring him.

"So... he's colorful." Brock said as Smitty retreated out of earshot. "You think he's the Mayor of crazy town or just the secretary?"

"You don't think we should take him serious?" Marcus asked.

"Don't worry about it kid, I think the old man was just trying to scare you." Brock assured him. "Grizzled old veterans like him get their kicks terrifying young squids like you. I wouldn't pay him any mind."

"I don't know." Marcus frowned. " If it was just a story, it was a damned convincing one."

Just then, there was a thunderclap above them and it instantly began pouring down rain. Marcus and Brock were forced to retreat inside the ship. They had to proceed carefully though, holding on to the rails, waves were bouncing the ship up and down higher than before.

"How'd it get so bad so fast?" Brock cursed. He slipped had Marcus grabbed him just to be safe.

If either of them were to fall overboard it wouldn't be likely that either of them could be recovered in the quickly deteriorating weather. A wave came over the side of the ship and hit the pair. While neither of them had been dry to begin with, the water soaked through Marcus' uniform instantly and was horrifically cold. It stopped both of them in their tracks for a second before they could recover and continue towards the hatch that would bring them inside. Brock laughed behind Marcus. While he had gotten soaked too, he was having more fun with the situation.

If it wasn't for the threat of drowning, Marcus too could have found some fun hanging onto the rail while the ship was pitching up and down in the water. However, he was not as fond of danger as Brock was and motioned for them to continue forward before something really bad happened. Finally, they made it to the hatch opened it. Upon stepping inside the Reeves, they found Smitty there waiting for them with a pair of towels. He was smiling a shit eating grin at them.

'Wait a minute, how'd he get those so fast?' Marcus grimaced with suspicion. 'Did he know we were about to get drenched the whole time?'

Less than hour later, the USS Reeves was caught up in a powerful storm. The thunder, lightening, and rain were beyond anything Marcus had experienced before. The ship felt like a tin can being tossed around on the waves. Marcus had been through storms before on the Enterprise, but on a big capitol ship, one hardly seems to notice waves. On a destroyer, on the other hand, every second is like the thrill ride, not knowing which direction you might get thrown next.

The initial feeling of excitement and fun Marcus had at the beginning of the storm had long since faded, washed away with the continuous crashing of waves against the hull. He realized both the ship and his life were at risk to the hunger of the angry sea.

Marcus did his beast to keep a cool head, but he was certain his fear and concern was painted all over his face. He looked over to Brock who had also lost all his bravado from earlier. It only reinforced to Marcus how serious and precarious the situation was. Even Smitty, who was keeping tabs on the pair, had a grim look on his face.

The ship jerked back and forth violently and every man aboard had to hang on to something to keep their feet under them. Marcus imagined what it would be like if the ship went down and they were actually forced to abandon ship. His mind shifted around to all the nasty things Smitty had told them about the sea. What if they couldn't get to the life boats and were left floating on the surface in shark infested waters? It occurred to Marcus that the sharks probably wouldn't even have chance to find them before the raging storm drowned them.

Just as Marcus was pondering that question, another wave thundered against the hull of the ship and some water found its way into their compartment. That was enough for him and he decided that he didn't want to be sitting in the bowels of the ship if it started to go down. He got up and began making his way to the bridge to see how bad their situation really was for himself. Neither Brock nor Smitty tried to stop him.

It was a slow going trying to keep his balance along was way as the ship shifted in the water continuously. Marcus was bracing himself with his arms outstretched against the walls of the corridor as he went. It was tiresome and his muscles ached from the effort.

Marcus arrived on the bridge just in time to see the greatest threat to the Reeves beginning to unfold. The helmsman was reporting to Captain Shack that a huge tidal wave was approaching the ship from the starboard side. There was only a few seconds to decide what do to. If the ship stayed where it was the wave would roll over their side and capsize them. If that were to happen, the odds of any of the crew surviving would drop dramatically.

Captain Shack did the worst thing possible in that situation, nothing. He frozen up and left his subordinates standing there waiting on him to act. they were losing precious time they did not have. Fortunately for them all, Admiral Nimitz was there and was not about to let anyone to die standing on formalities. He quickly took command and issued out the orders required to get the Reeves positioned so that the ship would turn with the oncoming wave.

The Reeves made the turn just in time as it got caught up in the wave. For a few seconds the destroyer was nearly at a sixty degree angle as the stern was pulled up in the wall of water. Marcus was terrified as he tried to hang on. His heart was in his throat. Gravity was trying to pull him forward as he braced himself. Through the glass of the bridge he could see the water below them. The ship was never meant to see the ocean from this angle. As the wave rolled up under the ship they started to level out again. From there, the Reeves rode along the crest of the wave for a few more tense seconds. Time slowed down as the ship rushed forward with the force of the raging ocean. Another wave poured over the stern of the ship but then rolled back overboard again.

Though Marcus didn't realize it at the time, the ship was clear of the immediate danger. It rolled forward, still being pulled along by the wake of tidal wave that was rolling on in front of them. An addition hour of being tossed around saw the Reeves through the storm and back into calmer waters and safety.

The trip from Tunis to France had been meant to take only around twelve hours, but between Captain Shack's antics and the storm, they rolled into the port in Southern France about nine hours late. The French officials sent to met them were concerned when they failed to arrived on time. They had made efforts to contact them, but the antenna on the Reeves had been knocked out in the storm, making radio communication impossible.

Upon arrival, Marcus discovered the tidal wave they had encountered in the storm was in fact caused by an unrelated phenomena. There had been an earthquake in Libya that caused the giant wave to form. It was just a crazy coincidence it happened to hit the Reeves while in the thralls of the storm.

'Just one more strange story for Smitty to tell.' Marcus thought sarcastically.

The tidal wave had continued on northward after their encounter with it and had hit parts of Southern Europe. Italy was the hardest hit, being located directly across from the point of origin in Africa. In particular, the coastal areas of Sicily were devastated. France was relatively unaffected by the wave, as it had been broken up by other land masses between them.

With their safe arrival, Marcus, Nimitz, Brock, and Williams could continue on as planned. They left the Reeves behind to begin the long process of repairs in the harbor. Meanwhile, the French officials had a bus waiting to transport them to the research facility. Marcus was more than happy to be off the Reeves and on board something a little more stable. The sea voyage had tested his metal almost as much as his encounter with Baragon.

The trip through the French countryside to the facility was blessedly more quiet and uneventful. Marcus' shattered nerves needed some time to recover. In fact, he fell asleep for an hour or so before Brock poked him in the shoulder to let them know they were drawing near to their final destination. They were still driving nearby the coast, but had gone a considerable number of miles west. They made a turn off the main road and onto a private one that would take them the small remainder of the way. The road was a little windy, rising in elevation with each twist back and forth.

The grounds the research facility was built on were nestled amongst the hills overlooking the sea, but the lovely scenery didn't stop Marcus from being nervous. This would mark the fourth occasion he'd come into close contact with a Kaiju and he would not have recommended his first three encounters to anyone. There was no reason to think this would be any different.

The first thing Marcus spotted as they drove up on the facility was the impressive structure that encased the egg. He could only see the very top of it over the treeline at first, but as they got closer, he could see more and more. As it got bigger, he could feel anxiety building up in his chest. He knew he was already past the point of no return though. It wasn't like he could jump out of the bus and hitch hike back to the States. No, he was committed to whatever would come now. He'd have to see it through to the end.

Finally the bus brought them around the final corner, which allowed them to get their first good look at the entire facility. The structure housing the egg was the first thing everyone's eyes were drawn to. It dwarfed the buildings around it. The framework was steel, surrounded by what appeared to be glass. The building looked like something that should be found at the center of a World's Fair Exposition. It looked other-earthly, like an overgrown greenhouse or conservatory, but it housed something far rarer than anything that could be found in either.

The whole group was even more impressed by the gargantuan egg, which was plain as day to see through the clear walls. It was even bigger than they had imagined. It resembled a robin's egg with its light blue base color, but was highlighted by soft yellow stripes and dotted with speckles of white throughout. It was an equal balance of unusual and magnificent and an aw-inspiring sight for certain.

As Marcus starred at it, something strange happened. All of his fear and anxiety about the mission started to melt away. There was something about the egg gave him a inexplicable feeling of being safe, but there was more to it than that. He felt good, real good. Marcus had not felt so good since before his encounter with Baragon, before he even knew that Kaiju existed. It was hard to Marcus to pinpoint exactly what the feeling was. The only thing that came close was how he felt the last time he was with Shauna, simply warm on the inside.

The bus came to a stop and a delegation of French scientists came from the facility to meet them. Admiral Nimitz shook hands with the lead scientist by the name of Dr. Jacquier and introduced everyone else. Routine pleasantries were exchanged, most of which Marcus was ignoring. His gaze drifting back to the egg. He couldn't keep his eyes off of it. There was a great deal of conversation his missed before his attention came back to it.

"How did you manage to make something this big out of glass so quickly?" He caught Williams ask the doctor, referring to the atrium housing the egg.

"Geez Williams, that's what you are finding impressive?" Brock rolled his eyes. "We have a true wonder in front of us and that's where your mind goes?"

"Well, it is impressive." Williams floundered to find a better response, obviously a little embarrassed.

"First, I think both are impressive." Dr. Jacquier laughed. "Second, it's not glass. It's a new material called plastic."

"Plastic? What the heck is that?" Brock asked.

"I'm glad you asked." Dr. Jacquier replied. "Plastic is a recently developed semi-synthetic organic polymer discovered by James clerk Maxwell that is malleable. And because of that, it can be molded into solid objects derived from petrochemicals. It has great versatility and is imperiousness to water. It is light, cheap, and easy to produce. It has limitless applications."

"Oh." Brock replied. It was clear that half of what the doctor had said had went over his head. Marcus too was a little lost, but less so that Brock. He at least got the gist.

"I'll explain it to you more as we go." Dr. Jacquier smiled, realizing he was perhaps throwing a new concept a little too quickly at a simple soldier. "But suffice to say it is a discovery that will change the world as we know it in the years to come. Necessity is the mother of invention and it was necessary to protect our guest here from the elements as quickly as possible. My feeling is The Thing is happy in its new home."

"The Thing?" Marcus asked confused. "What do you mean?

"Oh, the egg, we don't really know what is in there yet, so we have just been saying that." Dr. Jacquier explained. "Somehow feels right to me. Once we rightly figure out what is in there we can give it a more proper name. Would you gentlemen like a closer look? You've come all this way, might as well get cracking... so to speak."

A short while later, the group was climbing the stairs just outside of the atrium, which housed the egg. They had to pass through a security checkpoint to get there, but the armed guards were pretty relaxed waving the whole group through without issue.

Dr. Jacquier was talking more about the building and how it had been constructed so quickly, perhaps patting his engineers on the back a little along the way. He also explained the security measures that had been put into place. The atrium had a fail safe built in should the egg start to exhibit behavior seen as dangerous. The French government had only agreed to permit study of the egg within their territory so long as there was a way to destroy it quickly should the need arise.

The scientists had come up with a radical way to satisfy the security requirement. A relatively new technology was implemented into the very walls surrounding the egg. Dr. Jacquier described the technology as microwaves. He explained that microwaves were a form of electromagnetic radiation that caused dielectric heating primarily by absorption of the energy in water and thereby heating polarized molecules within a given object. In this case, the egg, should they turn on the surrounding emitter emplacements.

He went on to explain that molecules have a partial positive charge at one end and a partial negative charge at the other, and therefore they rotate as they would try to align themselves with the alternating electric field of the microwaves. This molecular movement would cause heat to disperse as the rotating molecules hit other molecules and put them into motion.

He summarized by saying that with the flip of just a single switch, the housing around the egg could be turned into a electromagnetic oven that would cook the egg and whatever was inside it in mere minutes. He joked that he could make enough scrambled eggs for the entire country if he wanted. Something about that statement made Marcus feel angry, but he didn't know why. He should have felt more secure knowing that they had such a well thought out defense.

"Where is this security switch?" Admiral Nimitz asked.

"It's in the observation deck." Dr. Jacquier answered. "Right next to the main control board. That way it's right at our finger tips should it become necessary."

"Are you concerned that someone might hit the switch by mistake?" Williams asked. "It could get awful dicey if someone where to trip it while we are up there."

"I wouldn't worry about any accidents like that." Dr. Jacquier assured him. "The switch is located inside a security box. It has to be unlocked with a key to be accessed. So it can't be tripped by mistake. There are only two keys. I always hold on to one of them and the security chief is in charge of the other one. Typically whichever guards are on duty below are entrusted with his key so they can quickly react in an emergency if I'm not around."

Satisfied with Dr. Jacquier's explanation, the group proceeded up the remaining steps that lead to the to observation deck. Upon entering the atrium and they got their best view of the egg yet. The only thing separating the group from the egg was a narrow panel of glass, the only glass to be found in the facility, the rest was plastic. Marcus pressed himself right up next to it, trying to get the best view possible. The egg was even more beautiful through the clear glass. The plastic exterior, which the doctor had been talking up so much was still inferior in some ways. The true colors of the egg were dulled from the outside view, but on the inside it was even more breathtaking. The feeling Marcus had felt earlier was even stronger now that he was so close to the egg, seeing its true details. He put his hand against the glass.

"Phew, it is cooking in here already doc, you're saying it would get hotter if the security system was turned on?" Brock asked.

"Considerably." Dr. Jacquier noted.

"I wouldn't want to be in here if that happened." Brock shrugged. He noted a thermometer on the wall. "Geez, it's a hundred degrees in here."

"Is it really?" Marcus asked surprised. He had not even noticed. He came over and examined the thermometer for himself. Sure enough, that's what it read. "To me it feels more like seventy-two." Just then he noticed that Brock was beginning to sweat and he was not. Marcus looked around and saw that almost everyone in the room was sweating. He still didn't even think it felt warm and got a little weirded out. He also noticed Dr. Jacquier staring at him strangely.

"Perhaps it's time to head back outside." Dr. Jacquier announced to the group. "It's pretty hot in here after all."

As the group made their way back down the stairs, Marcus noted an entrance to actual egg chamber. He saw one of the French scientists go through. It appeared to be restricted access though. There was a warning sign hanging outside the door. He couldn't read it, but the intent was still pretty clear for non-French speakers by the picture on it.

Dr. Jacquier talked for just another minute before wrapping up his welcome tour. The last thing he did was point out the housing unit were the new American arrivals were to stay for the duration of their stay. As they has arrived late in the day, there was not enough time to do much else before dark. There was just enough time have dinner and then settle in for the evening. Their work would have to begin tomorrow.

As the groups broke up Marcus again caught Dr. Jacquier watching him. Marcus mostly had a good first impression of the Doctor, but his staring was starting to make him uneasy.

After dinner, Marcus and Brock headed to their bunk for the night. Almost everyone else was well ready for a good night's sleep. Marcus aside, the rest of his group were still worn out by their misadventure at sea. He had been the only one to have slept on the drive over to the facility.

While everyone else slumbered, Marcus starred up at the ceiling thinking. His mind was racing and kept coming back to the same thought: he needed to get an even closer look at the egg. He tried to push the thought out of his mind, but as the night pressed on, he became more and more fixated on it. He tossed and turned and wasn't able to rest.

At about eleven-thirty Marcus finally couldn't stand it anymore. He grabbed his shoes and crept out of the room. Brock was out like a light, so that much was easy. Once outside of his room, Marcus slipped his shoes on and continued onward carefully. The rest of the building was just as dead to the world. Sneaking out of the bunk house unnoticed was even easier than getting out of his room. The hallways were deserted.

Marcus slipped out the door and into the cool night air. He looked around and found the facility grounds dark, quite, empty. Sneaking around proved to be stupidly simple. The only trouble Marcus came across was the guards at the entrance to the egg facility, but even there, he was in luck. One of the guards was just getting up from his station to walk the perimeter of the atrium and the other one had fallen asleep at his post.

Marcus waited patiently, knowing exactly what he needed to do. Once the first guard had circled around the corner of the atrium he would make a break for it. He waited just a few seconds longer and then sprinted across the grass until he got close to the entrance. He slowed once he came upon the other guard sleeping. Marcus tiptoed around him, as not to alert him. He crept past without difficulty and finally entered the door to the egg chamber.

Once inside, Marcus found the lights were on. The room was empty as best as he could tell. It was difficult to be sure. It was possible that someone was on the other side of the atrium being blocked by the egg. Kind of the same way the egg was blocking him so the guard on the outside couldn't see him. It didn't bother Marcus much, he doubted anyone would be in there that time of night. As he looked around, he noticed something odd. There were air raid sirens posted in three corners of the atrium and he assumed there must have been an additional one located in the corner he could not see.

'What the heck are they planning to do with these?' Marcus thought to himself.

There was no time to dwell on it though. His time was very limited. The atrium might be huge, but at best, he only had a minute or two before the other guard would circle back around. He'd be able to see Marcus through the clear plastic once he got close enough. Marcus could circle around the egg himself to avoid detection, but if the guard remained at his post for the rest of the night, Marcus would be trapped and eventually discovered. There was only one way in or out. Best to avoid that scenario.

Marcus wasted no more time, he briskly walked forward until he was right next to the egg. He should have been thinking the egg could crush him if it were to be disturbed, but that was far from his mind. He only had one thought at that point: He had to touch it with his bare hand to see how it felt. It was an impulse he simply couldn't ignore. An irresistible urge was driving him on.

Marcus' hand inched closer and closer until finally there was direct contact. The eggshell was warm, exceptionally warm, against his skin. He somehow had not expected that. As he stood there just soaking it in, he started to feel something. There was a flash in his mind and he felt the warmth against his hand begin to flow into the rest of his body. He stood there for what felt like ages while it filled him up. He stopped seeing the egg in front of him and started seeing other things, so many things, things he didn't understand. Time felt like it stopped and he could hear music, unlike anything he had heard before.

Marcus eventually came back to his senses and had spots of light in his vision once again. They were brighter than the last time he had saw them. He was suddenly very worried, it had been awhile since his last episode and he had hoped that they were permanently gone. Clearly they were not. As he stood there, he realized he had no idea how long he had been there. He might be in danger of being caught.

Marcus realized that it was time to go. He looked out through the side of the atrium and could see that the other guard had not returned yet. He couldn't risk staying inside any longer. He darted to the exit, opening the door carefully. He peaked around the corner to see if the patrolling guard was coming. There was no sign of him and and the other guard was still fast asleep.

It was now or never, Marcus carefully exited he atrium and walked quietly away until he was a good twenty yards away from the sleeping guard. Once he felt a safe distance away, he broke into a full on sprint until he was back into the safety of the shadows, far away from the atrium. Marcus looked back and saw the other guard just coming around the corner. If he had waited just a few more seconds he would have been spotted.

Amongst the shadows, Marcus quietly caught his breath and steadied his nerves. He quickly thought to himself what he would say if anyone back at the bunkhouse happened to be awake when her arrived and pressed him about where he had been. Marcus found it strange that it was only now that he was considering this. Why hadn't he thought about this before? He could find no reasonable answer to that question.

He was far more successful with coming up with an excuse for being outside though. It just so happened that the bunkhouse lacked indoor plumbing, as it had been erected somewhat recently and in a hurry. For that reason, an outhouse had been placed nearby. Marcus could simple say he had the urge to go during the night. Not so far from the truth, he'd barely be lying if he said that.

Feeling confident with an excuse in mind, Marcus began to walk back in the dark. He pasted a couple buildings and then came around a corner, which would lead him back to the bunkhouse. As he did, someone struck a match. Marcus stopped in his tracks, taken by surprise. The unknown figure brought the match up to their face and revealed themselves to be none other than Dr. Jacquier. He was carefully lighting a cigarette.

"Nice night for a walk, Marcus... is it?" He asked. Marcus felt like a child who had been caught sneaking down to the kitchen in the middle of the night to steal a cookie from the cookie jar. By Jacquier's demeanor, it was unclear if he had witnessed Marcus go into the facility or not. He seemed relaxed and aloof.

"It sure is." Marcus replied, not knowing what else to say. He felt cold sweat forming on the back of his neck.

"A little fresh air does the body and spirit good." Dr. Jacquier went on, though the statement was a little ironic considering he took in a long drag from his cigarette right after. "Well, you should rest up, we'll be starting bright and early tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure thing doctor." Marcus agreed.

With that, Dr. Jacquier simply walked away and Marcus could hardly believe it. Had he really not seen what he had just done? He was certain he was about to be busted. Could the doctor really have been out there just for a midnight smoke? Something told Marcus that was not the case, but despite that, he somehow felt ok about it.

The next morning, Marcus told Brock what he had done while sitting down to breakfast. All things considered Brock took it pretty well.

"Are you mad?" Brock choked on his wheat bran. "Do you know what they would have done to you if to had been caught? At the very least you'd be in the brig, probably awaiting a court martial, and the rest of us would be be at the heart of an embarrassing international incident. What were you thinking?"

"It's hard to explain, but I felt compelled to do it." Marcus began.

"You felt compelled to do it?" Brock grumbled, clearly not impressed with Marcus' explanation. "What the hell kind of answer is that? Where's your self control? I'll tell you what, I feel compelled to put my boot in your ass. Do you think it would be wise for me to act on that urge?" The vein in Brock's neck was starting to pop out.

"I know it sounds crazy and you're getting agitated Brock, but hear me out for a second." Marcus tried to calm him down. "Between the storm and our encounter with Baragon I've been a nervous wreck lately. You know that I've had issues dealing with it. But here's the crazy thing: From the moment we arrived here I have started felt different, somehow better and when I touched the egg I got a jolt of something. I don't understand it yet, but I'm starting to feel like me again for the first time in a long time. I know it's selfish, but for me it was worth the risk of being caught." Brock just stared at Marcus curiously, not sure what to say. He looked like he was thinking something over himself.

"I've felt a little different since we got here too." Brock admitted. "I'm not sure I like it though."

"Gentlemen, better finish up quickly." Dr. Jacquier came up surprising them. "It's nearly time to get the experiment underway! I wouldn't want you to miss it."

Ten minutes later, everyone was gathered on the stairs on the way to the observation deck. They had elected to start earlier in the morning so the atrium was as cool as possible. As the day pressed on, it would only get hotter and hotter inside as it soaked up more of the sun's rays. Dr. Jacquier was already chatting everyone up.

"It's funny, we've only begun to study the egg, and by its mere presence here, we've been forced to jump into two new areas of technological advances." Dr. Jacquier noted. "Who knows what will happen once we start to understand its secrets." He lead the group back into the observation deck within the atrium and began to bring them up with speed about the experiments that had already been preformed and what they had learned from them. The short answer could be summarized as very little, save for one important discovery.

The French scientists had conducted countless tests on the shell, taking very small scrapings in an effort to determine what was inside. The results were inconclusive. They compared the samples under a microscope to various types of bird, reptile, amphibian, insect, and fish eggs. They came up empty. Nothing was a match or even a close match. They even tried to screen it against the few types of mammals that lay eggs. nothing came of it.

The egg was wholly unique. One of the things that really set it apart was a new mineral found within it. The scientists concluded it was something that couldn't be found on the periodic table of the time. Whatever it was, it was strong. In fact, if the whole eggshell had been made up of the element, they never would have been able to scrape off a sample. This, as much as anything, stirred the French government's interest in continuing their research. The mineral could prove invaluable once they discovered an application for it. That alone could justify their decision to study the egg rather than destroy it.

After their first exciting discovery, the scientists tested the egg in a series of other experiments. The first was to see if it was giving off any radiation, magnetic fields, or conductivity. Each test failed to yield any noteworthy information. A litany of other experiments followed, each failing to produce anything of value.

Dr. Jacquier went into detail of each test extensively, but Marcus stopped paying attention when it became clear that he wasn't going to say anything else useful or interesting. Marcus' eyes and attention shifted to the egg instead. It was just sitting in the atrium waiting for him. He starred at it for a long time before he drifted back towards the conversation going on around him.

"What we are going to do today is a sound test." Dr. Jacquier announced as Marcus' attention shifted back to him. "You will observe the air raid sirens recently installed inside the atrium." He pointed them out. "We have converted them to act as speakers to amplify a selection of music that has been prepared in advance."

"What is the point of this test?" Admiral Nimitz asked.

"I'm glad you asked." Dr. Jacquier replied. "All of this probably seems strange right? Why would we men of science, being sound of mind, go as far as to hold a private opera for an overgrown chicken egg you might be asking yourself? Well, the answer is slightly more complex than my love for classical music." He jested, getting a mixed response from the crowd.

"Anyhow." The he went on. "The fact of the matter is there are factions within my government that feel that we should not be expending any more of our country's resources on this project until we can at the very least confirm that their is life dwelling within the egg." Dr. Jacquier explained "So far, our guest has been quite bashful about making its presence know. There have been precious few clues about what lurks inside, if anything at all. It could be a dud, but we certainly can't do the old farmer's trick of putting the egg in a glass of water to see if it will float. So, we must find another way to confirm we are dealing with a living organism or not."

"As luck would have it, a potential solution to our problem may have landed in our laps." Dr. Jacquier continued. "A few days ago Dr. Dellacqua was in the atrium compiling his experimental notes and happened to be listening to his new record player to help pass the time. As he was writing, something remarkable happened. He thought he noted movement within the egg. Unfortunately no one else was around to see or hear it and there was no recording equipment on hand at the time to catch it either. While Dr. Dellacqua's word is enough for me, it's sadly not good enough for those dissenters in the government who would like to see this project shut down. They demand something a little more concrete."

"Thus, our goal today is to correct that oversight and provide them with some hard evidence. To accomplish that goal we plan to provoke a response and reproduce the movement, but this time with recording equipment in place to prove our claim. To that end, we have placed sensitive seismic equipment near the base of the egg. It will detect the slightest vibrations, thus, if there is any reaction today we will be able to record it." Some of the members of the team looked impressed, while other like Brock thought the doctor had drank too much wine.

"Why would it respond to music?" Someone near the front asked.

"Maybe it just doesn't like French music and it was the only way it could protest." Brock mused. Marcus snickered. The pair were far enough away from the rest of the group didn't hear them. Neither of them heard the doctor's actual answer to the question.

The group settled down and Dr. Jacquier turned to a control panel on a table overlooking the atrium to begin the experiment. He flipped a switch and music became to softly creep out of the speakers. There was a small speaker in the observation deck so they could all hear it too. Marcus noted that the music wasn't anything special. It was simple, light, and easy on the ears. It was just the sort of thing a rich snob would play in the background of stuffy high class party. It was boring and bland, but not offensive.

The music went on at some length, the sound filling up the atrium while the observers above watched the egg, waiting to see if their was any response. The flat lined readout on the seismograph indicated that there was none. It would only occasionally bob with the more bombastic parts of the music, but nothing beyond that. If nothing else, it at least showed how sensitive the seismograph was. If it could detected the music, it could certainly detect any moment from the egg.

The first song on the record came and went uneventfully, then the second song began. From the moment it started, Marcus noticed several odd things about it. For starters, the second piece of music was not by the same composer as the first. The second piece was from a well known composer while the first piece was not. That meant that the record they were listening to had been spliced together and not just a record they had pulled from one of the scientist's personal collections. Something about that made Marcus feel uneasy. If their goal was to produce similar results as before, wouldn't it stand to reason to use the same music Dr. Dellacqua has been listening to?

Marcus looked over to Dr. Jacquier to see how he was reacting to the musical selection. He too looked a little troubled at that point, or at least a little distracted. It was hard to tell which. Could it be that this was not the record he had chosen? If it wasn't, it didn't stop him from proceeding forward with the test. Dr. Jacquier allowed the music to continue to play unabated.

It was at that point Marcus noticed the second thing that bothered him. The main melody of the song had started out exactly as Marcus remembered it, but before long, some rogue notes crept into it that didn't belong. As he listened more, he realized they were not just random notes thrown in, but instead belonged to a second song that was beginning to play subtlety under the main score. It was very strange.

Marcus again looked around to read the room. This time, he seemed to be the only person reacting to it. If anyone else was hearing the underscore, there were no signs of it on any of their faces. Everyone appeared to be completely oblivious to it. Even Dr. Jacquier no longer looked concerned like he had before. As Marcus stood there befuddled, he realized he recognized the song. He remembered hearing it while he was touching the egg the night before. He might have even been hearing it on a subconscious level even before that. What was it and why was he hearing it? Did anyone else notice it?

"Do you hear that?" He asked Brock.

"Hear what, the music?" Brock asked back. "Of course I hear it, I'm not deaf."

"No, I mean the underscore." Marcus clarified. Brock only looked at him confused.

"Don't know what you are talking about." Brock shook his head. "All I hear is some dusty old classic."

Williams had overheard the conversation and shook his head no as well when Marcus looked to him. Marcus started to wonder if he was the only one hearing it. Could it all just be in his head? He was starting to feel anxious. Almost on cue, the bright spots that had been plaguing Marcus since hitting his head, began to creep back into his vision. It made him feel even less confident about what he was hearing and was afraid to say anything else, so he kept quiet.

"Movement!" One of the scientists monitoring the seismograph announced to the group, pulling Marcus away from his inner thoughts. Everyone in the observation deck crowded around the paper readout. There were clear pulses of movement scratched into the paper. As they watched, it became obvious that the pulses were not just artifact caused by the music playing.

There was a sense of joy amongst the French scientists. While they had only accomplished a modest goal, it was one of the first clear successes the had managed to achieve. They had proven that there was indeed life residing within the egg. Any funding problem they might have had going forward could be put to rest.

Marcus could see the pulses were regular and in unison with the melody of the underlying song no one else was hearing. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He got the sense that something was about to happen. The other men around him were carrying on, unaware of whatever subtle warning Marcus was picking up on. The readings on the seismograph were steadily getting stronger, but so very gradually at first that no one noticed them.

It went on like that for a few moments, very slowly building, until there was a sudden shutter strong enough that all the men in the observation deck stopped and took notice. The seismograph spiked with the tremor and then steadied again.

"Maybe you should shut the music off now doctor." Admiral Nimitz suggested. The enthusiasm in the room had quickly died down.

"Yes, I think we have what we need already." Dr. Jacquier agreed and flipped the switch off. The music died away, but the pulses of movement from he egg did not. If anything, they only grew stronger. The scientists looked worried, starting to feel the physical movement of the regular pulses. Marcus noted one of them starting to sweat, even though the temperature in the room was still only in the seventies.

A second intense tremor shook the observation room and at that point everyone inside recognized they were in trouble. Several of the scientists bolted for the door to the stairwell. Dr. Jacquier, Admiral Nimitz, Williams, Brock, Marcus and a few of the other braver scientists remained. At about that time, they actually witnessed the egg physically move within the atrium. That was the moment Admiral Nimitz realized they had gone beyond the point of no return.

"Dr. Jacquier, you need to activate the fail safe." The Admiral recommend.

Dr. Jacquier nodded in agreement and fumbled around in his pocket for the key to the security box housing the microwave switch. After several tense seconds, he finally was able to locate the key and used it to unlock the box.

"The rest of you need to get out of here, once I pull the switch the system will begin to activate." Dr. Jacquier warned. "There is only a slight delay built into the generators before they start running. The generators give the person starting the system twenty seconds to get clear of the atrium before they start cooking everything inside along with he egg."

With that, the doctor finished opening the box and discovered that the wires connecting the switch to the rest of the system had been cut. It was no accident. Someone had intentionally sabotaged the security system. The egg shifted off of its axis and rolled into the side of the atrium, knocking everyone still in the observation deck off their feet and destabilizing the structure. Everyone looked up to see that the eggshell had cracked and whatever was inside was starting to push its way out.

"Shit here we go again." Brock cursed, recognizing they needed to move quickly. "Come on everyone, we have to get out of here now! He prioritized helping Admiral Nimitz to his feet and ushering him towards the stairs to escape. Dr. Jacquier was right behind them, abandoning the security system.

Marcus meanwhile had not moved a muscle to escape. He had become fixated on the egg, watching it as it hatched. The creature was still struggling, trying to burst forth from its shell. Its body collided with the ceiling and the already damaged atrium became even more unstable.

"Marcus, what are you doing?" Brock shouted at him "You need to get out of there!" Marcus wasn't hearing him though. His back was to Brock, so he didn't see him either. One of the support beams above gave way and came crashing down just feet away from where Marcus stood. He wasn't even aware of it.

Begrudgingly, Brock knew he had to leave Marcus behind. There was too much debris falling between them and his first duty was to ensure that the Admiral made it out alive. He couldn't afford to wait any longer to do it. The creature was quickly collapsing the atrium as it hatched. Brock escaped down the stairwell with the VIPs in toe.

The fresh hatchling was still trying to free itself from the confines of its shell while was Marcus standing like a statue watching it. Little by little, what was left of the atrium was smashed and fell apart as the creature bumped into it. There simply wasn't enough space for it to move around without tearing the facility apart.

After most of the atrium was already demolished, the creature had successful freed itself and looked around to explore its new surroundings. It vaguely resembled a brown caterpillar with small blue eyes. It had a pair of small antenna on both sides of its mandibles, which twitched as it moved its bulbous head around. Its round body was segmented into seventeen individual sections.

It spotted Marcus standing on the platform, one of the few places where the original structure had remained intact. In a curious sort of way, its head drew in close to Marcus. The monster came within just yards of the glass that separated them. It looked at Marcus for a moment with its small blue eyes before its mouth opened and squeaking at him. Luckily for Marcus the glass was thick and still intact, otherwise the decibel level would have deafened him at that range. Even so, he still was forced to cover his ears from the enormous level of sound bleeding through the glass. The monster's call was extremely high pitched and shrill.

The sound died down and the monster just sat there looking at him. Marcus was not a highly religious man, but in the presence of this creature, he felt an overwhelming sensation running through his body, a power akin to that of a God. A tear ran down his face. It was the closest thing he had ever had to a religious experience.

Marcus knew this being was immensely powerful, but he also knew he not in danger. There was no notion of it harming him. The creature drew back slowly, and carefully turning its segmented body to move out of the wrecked atrium. As it crawled through the rest of the facility, it left all the remaining buildings untouched. In fact, through the whole incident, not a single person had been killed or injured. Remarkable considering the track record for every other encounter with a Kaiju thus far.

Marcus only watched as the creature gradually disappeared into the French countryside. As he stood there fixated, a hatch opened up behind him in the wall and Dr. Jacquier crawled out of it. Marcus turned to face him and saw a metal latter inside the crawl space.

"Well I'll be, you are still alive." Dr. Jacquier smiled. "That is certainly curious. I don't think its luck either. I have a hunch about it."

"Oh?" And what is that?" Marcus asked.

"I know you know someone sabotaged the fail safe. Any ideas who might have done that?" Dr. Jacquier inquired. Marcus figured he knew where the doctor was going with his question and prepared himself for what he knew would come next.

"Why don't you tell me what your theory is doctor." Marcus invited.

"Oh, it's quite simple really." Dr. Jacquier began. He reached deep into the pocket of his lab coat and began to pull something out. Marcus was expecting it to be a weapon, but was shocked when he realized what it actually was. The doctor had instead pulled out a pair of wire cutters. "I did it." He smiled at Marcus, who could only stare back at him confused.

"You did it...?" Marcus finally asked.

"You must be wondering why I did it." Dr. Jacquier put the clippers safely back in his pocket. "And also, why I would I tell you about it? I mean, after all, you could turn me in, right?" He mused. "Well I know for a fact that you won't." He said confidently. "How could I know that?" He posed the question. "Well it's actually really simple, I know you hear the music too." His eyes narrowed more seriously on Marcus. "It called to you like it called to me." The statement hit Marcus like a ton of bricks. At once, he realized that maybe he wasn't crazy after all, though maybe the doctor still was. "We both know destroying the egg would have been a mistake. The world is a far better place with the creature in it."

"Mothra." Marcus corrected him, speaking almost out of instinct.

"What?" Dr. Jacquier asked, caught slightly off guard.

"Her name is Mothra." Marcus answered. "Somehow I know that."

"Ah, I see I was right about you." Dr. Jacquier smiled even bigger. "She doesn't speak to everyone for some reason, but she can whisper to us when she wants to. That's how I knew the music would work. I could hear it in my head. I knew if I could just get it recorded and then play it she would hatch. The others couldn't know about it, they would have tired to stop me. But it's too late for that now. She's awake."

Marcus sat there processing the situation, trying to decide if he was in good company or not. A lot of the things the doctor was saying made sense to him, but he was still a little unease about him. The doctor seemed a little unhinged. Marcus wondered if working in such close proximity to the egg for so long had an adverse effect on him. And if that proved to be the case, would it start effect him in a similar way over time?"

"What happens now?" Marcus asked, trying to push those thoughts from his mind.

"Well, first and foremost, we have to get down from here, I just wanted to talk to you alone first. Make sure you were right in the head." Dr. Jacquier laughed. "Lets rejoin the others now, shall we?"

Not having much other choice, Marcus agreed. He let the doctor go down the latter first and followed behind him. He did not want the doctor above him while they were making their decent. Upon emerging from the secret entrance the doctor had used to reach him, they found the rest of their party was waiting for them. Brock was the first to spot them and made a B-line towards Marcus.

"What were you doing up there?" Brock began. "You can't afford to freeze up like that."

"I didn't" Marcus replied, confused. Brock had mistaken Marcus' fixation for fear and still didn't recognize it for what it was. He thought Marcus was still in shock.

"If you loose it like that out a battlefield you will die, your buddy next to you will die. Your whole unit will die." Brock pressed his point home. "Do you understand?"

"Brock, I'm telling you I was in total control the whole time up there." Marcus assured him. Brock looked into Marcus' eyes and suddenly wasn't sure of himself anymore.

"Maybe it would be best if we sent sent you back to the ship for the time being." Brock grunted.

"Actually I would very much like it if Marcus remained amongst us." Dr. Jacquier cut in. "I feel like he could be very useful indeed."

"How?" Brock asked.

"Well for starters, he has come up with a very fitting name for our little beastie." Dr. Jacquier answered. Brock waited for Dr. Jacquier to say he was joking, but he never did.

"I think you are both cracked." Brock surrendered.

In the Northern Pacific, the situation was tenuous. Japanese and Russian ships were still being hit regularly by the Rodans and the two governments still harbored a lot of enmity between them, so they refused to coordinate their efforts. The Japanese government thought if they just routed their merchant ships into the outer shipping lanes they might be ok, they were wrong. Five had been hit in the space of a week.

After that happened, the American government finally chose to share with the Japanese Marcus' theory about the Rodans finding at least some of their targets by following radio signals. Japanese shipping in the area was suspended entirely by that time, so they needed another way of knowing if that was the case. The theory had to be tested.

Wheels started turning in the Japanese government and a special mission was set in motion. Given the state of moral in the Imperial Navy following their devastating defeat, they decided it would be wiser to ask for volunteers for the potentially dangerous mission rather than just assigning someone to it.

They sent out a call for pilots and Akira was the first to put forth his name. Given his prior experience with the Rodans, he was an obvious choice and was readily accepted to lead the mission. Despite the issues with moral, other brave airmen quickly followed Akira's example and a crew was quickly coming together.

The mission was pretty straight forward. It was easy enough for Japanese engineers to put together a device that would transmit a strong radio signal to act as a lure. The device would be placed inside the durable casing of a water proof buoy and loaded into a long range bomber. The bomber would fly the buoy out to a Japanese outpost located on an island in the Northern Pacific and drop the device into the nearby ocean.

The outpost had an observation bunker and an airstrip. The long range bomber would easily be able to make it to the base, drop the device within visual range, land to refuel, and then return home. While they were returning, the radio buoy could be activated from remote and the men on the island could observe to see if the Rodans came to investigate it. The island was far enough away from the Rodan's new home that the Japanese could be reasonably certain that if they did appear on location it would be due to the presence of the device and not because of some other coincidence.

After having flown for hours, Akira and his crew had nearly arrived at the island. It had taken Akira a while to get used to the controls of a bomber, the aircraft was incredible sluggish and slow compared the fighters he was used to flying. For obvious reasons, radio silence was being strictly enforced during the mission.

As they approached the island, they could see a marker left in the water by the island's garrison. That was their beacon, where the radio buoy was to be dropped. Akira gave the necessary orders to his men and the bomb bay doors opened. Meanwhile, he corrected course to line the plane up with the target area. He slowed the aircraft to a crawl as they got over the marker. A lever was pulled and the buoy was away, falling towards the water. It splashed down and Akira only hoped it would stay afloat. It would be a long trip to make a second time if something were to go wrong. Thankfully the buoy bobbed right back up to the surface.

Satisfied with that, Akira turned the plane and made a pass over the island. The island was a tiny spec of land and he could see why its only strategic value was as an observation post. Prior to the Rodans making their existence known, the base was being used to keep an eye out for the Russian's Pacific Fleet.

Akira spotted the makeshift airstrip that had been cut out of the jungle and came in for a landing. Once the plane came to a stop, ground crews came running out to begin the refueling process. Akira assured them their was no reason to rush. Akira was quickly growing into a cautious man and had decided he did not want his plane in the air anywhere near the island while the buoy was transmitting.

Instead, he asked the ground crews hide the bomber under the canopy of trees. Meanwhile, his crew would enter the bunker and observe the buoy from there while the test was being conducted. The garrison commander gave Akira a funny look when he realized he was deviating from their orders, however, he didn't argue. They might be in different branches of service, but the garrison commander was still clearly outranked by Akira and it would not be his career that suffered if the higher ups took offense to Akira altering their plans.

With everything in place, they activated the radio buoy and hunkered down to wait. Hours passed with nothing to do but play cards and talk. Akira quickly learned the men of the garrison weren't very excited about their assignment. It was boring enough on the island to begin with, but the Russian fleet they were meant to be monitoring had pulled out when the Rodans moved in. So there wasn't much of a reason for them to be there anymore.

The soldiers on the island would much rather have been with the main army during the invasion of China. Having known soldiers who were part of the fighting on the mainland, Akira was certain they would feel differently after witnessing a month of the carnage that was the Sino-Japanese War. It was brutal affair, not glorious or honorable as the propaganda films would have them believe. Akira was glad he only ever saw that war from the sky.

The day dragged on without any activity, but just when everyone was about ready to call the mission a wash a noise became audible within the bunker. Akira sprang up, instantly recognizing it as the whistle the Rodans made when they were fast in flight. Everyone within the bunker ran to the small opening to see out, and sure enough, one of the Rodans was splashing down into the shallow waters near the buoy. The monster seemed confused, having found no target to attack. The buoy at its feet was so small that it escaped its notice. Watching the monster look around confused was all the convincing Akira needed. The test had been a success. He deactivated the radio buoy assuming the monster would leave, having no signal to keep its attention anymore. Except it didn't leave.

The Rodan remained in the water idle for a moment. Then the monster looked at the island and decided to investigate it. It only took the Rodan a few flaps of its wings to bring it to the island. The inexperienced soldiers in the bunker just about shit themselves as it passed over them. They lost track of Rodan as it flew over the bunker, but it must have landed somewhere nearby. The interior of their hiding place seemed to bend under the pressure. Bits of dirt and sand fell from the ceiling. Luckily for them, Rodan missed landing directly on them, but they could hear the monster moving around. Each of its steps brought more dirt down on them and they listened and waited.

Finally, they heard Rodan let out an enormous cackling roar and it took flight. It had lost interest in the seemingly empty island. Just to be safe Akira insisted that they wait a few minutes down in the bunker before venturing out. When he was satisfied it was clear, they crept out of their hiding place. Some of the palm trees in the area had been knocked down, but otherwise there was no serious damage to the base itself. The bomber had also not been discovered. They would be able to return home with a small victory.

In a vineyard in Southern France, a day's work was just coming to an end.

The vineyard was being overseen by Andre, the oldest son in a long line of viticulturists. His parents were away for the day and he was left in charge. There wasn't much to it really, he just had to keep an eye on the workers to ensure the didn't drive away with a truckload of grapes. Given the good working relationship between his parents and their farm hands, it was not likely to be an issue.

Andre was perhaps a little too pampered by his parents due to their recent success. He didn't like to get his own hands dirty and preferred to supervise the labor. His mother had a bad habit of overindulging his whims. As a result, he spent less and less time in the fields as he got older. He had come to see performing manual labor below his station in life. The work was going well despite this.

The grapes had just become ripe and it had been a perfect morning. They had gotten a lot of work done, the field in the first section had nearly been picked clean and the resulting spoils were being loaded into the storehouse for safe keeping. The rest of the harvest could wait until tomorrow. Andre hoped his parents would be pleased that he had managed to wrap up the whole first section of job in their absence.

Once his father was back they could begin to process the grapes while the field workers continued to gather the rest of the crop. Andre was looking forward to taking the first steps towards turning the grapes into fine wine. He was still young, but had already developed a distinguished palate for wines. His family produced one of the best.

Andre stood on the porch of the manor house and looked out over the green fields. Someday it would all be his. His family had grown rich over the years. Wineries were a very lucrative business and he was eager to get his own taste of fortune.

As Andre continued to marvel at his family's legacy, he became aware of a noise. It was so faint that he wasn't even certain he was really hearing it. He dismissed it as his imagination until he heard it a second time. Nearby he saw one of the field hands just starting to unload the first few barrels of grapes from the work truck.

"Michael, come over here." He called to the worker.

"Yeah, what can I do for you boss?" Michael asked as he got close.

"Shhh... did you hear that just now?" Andre tried to quiet him down, waving his had. The noise come back at the exact moment Michael had started to speak and it was gone again just as fast.

"Uh... no." Michael replied. "Hear what?"

"Well it's gone now, but wait here a minute and listen with me." Andre said frustrated. The two men just sat there second by second waiting. Finally Andre hear it again.

"There, do you hear that?" Andre asked. "It was louder this time."

"No boss." Michael replied. Andre frowned at him. Michael was a man in his late fifties and his hearing was starting to fade. It probably didn't help that the noise was of a higher tone. Higher frequencies typically are the first ones that go with age. Andre on the other hand was only nineteen, so his hearing was still perfect. The noise came again. This time it was loud enough for even Michael to notice it.

"I think I heard it that time boss, what is it?" He asked.

"I haven't got the slightly idea." Andre admitted. "I've never heard anything like that before, but it's getting louder. We aren't having any trouble with the processing machines again are we?"

"Not that I'm aware of." Michael answered. "They were checked yesterday and where running right then."

"It's so odd, where is it coming from?" Andre grimaced. "It's like a squeaking sound right?"

"Yeah, that's about right." Michael agreed. "Don't sound like machinery though." They stood there listening until they heard it again, this time it sounded significantly louder than before.

"What the hell is that?" Andre asked, starting to get a little worried. It was about that time he realized something was very wrong. He also started to feel a vibration under his feet.

"Is it an earthquake?" Michael asked.

"I don't know, but just to be on the safe side I think you'd better tell the rest of the workers to get out of the storehouse." Andre warned. "That building is old and I doubt it will hold up well under strain."

With that, Michael ran down as quickly as he could. The other field workers were already starting to come out of the storehouse to investigate the noise and rumbling. Andre could hear Michael shouting to them and the group of workers rapidly poured out of the building. Panic was starting to spread as the squeaking noise had grown into a roar that was echoing throughout the valley of the vineyard.

Andre saw some of the workers pointing to the hill the overlooked the valley. He turned to have a look for himself and saw a dark mass cresting the hill. It just looked like a lump moving behind the hill at first. Then it started to grow as more of it became visible moving over the hill.

Andre was at a loss for words. It appear to be some type of gigantic brown worm. It was knocking over trees as it made its way down the hill and into the valley. It crawled along remarkably quick for a worm and soon found its way to the edge of the vineyard.

Once there, it began to devour the field one line at a time. Andre watched as vines were ravaged. The creature was meticulously picking the rows apart. Its voracious appetite seemed boundless. Vines were disappearing at an alarming rate, the grapes, leaves, and even the stems. Nothing was left after it was done. Section by section the fields were growing bare.

Andre just stood in utter shock as his family's livelihood was vanishing before his very eyes. Finally, Michael came up and shook his shoulder, bringing him back to conscious thought. Andre spared Michael a glance before running into the house and grabbing a rifle.

Andre came back out and began firing at the monstrous worm. He fired and fired and fired with no effect. He reloaded his weapon for a second time and began again. Still, the creature continued on unconcerned. Andre began to despair, coming to realize his efforts were in vain. His family's business, that had survived for generations through droughts and wars, was going to die on his watch and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.

He reloaded his rifle for a third time and began firing once again. Tears were running down his face. He already knew it was a pointless effort, but continued to fire despite this until his gun was out of ammo. He did it for no other reason than to avoid having to just stand there and watch it happen.

In Germany, the Wehrmacht was once again closing in on Varan. The Luftwaffe had been keeping tabs on him, but keeping their distance. In the immediate aftermath of the bridge's destruction, they had launched a second air assault that didn't do any better than the first despite a much greater amount of aircraft being at their disposal. Planes were deemed ineffective and relegated reconnaissance instead.

It had taken twenty-four hours for the ground forces to catch up with the monster, but they had been reinforced in the meantime. They felt confident they would be able to inflict damage with heavier artillery they were bringing in. The Germans had chased Varan to the foot of a mountain range, where it had stopped to sleep. They felt as though they finally had the monster cornered. The guns had been put into place and the tanks were moving into ready positions. All the pieces were in place, a major attack was imminent.

Reinhart and Fritz had stayed with the tanks the whole time, having to regroup, refuel, and find another bridge to cross the river. They pair had taken turns driving, allowing the other to get some sleep along the way. They would take no part in he battle, but had taken position on a mountain road near the Haltrechtshier dam. It gave them a perfect view of the battle that would take place below. They didn't have to wait very long.

The artillery opened up and tore up the ground around Varan, rousing it from its slumber. With the attack underway the tanks charged in and added in their fire power. The artillery was doing well. They were able to hit Varan frequently and accurately. For the first time, Varan was showing signs of pain when a shell would hit him in the lightly armored areas of his body. It roared angry and didn't try to run this time. Enraged, it actually charged the German lines. This took them by surprise. The monster had chosen to retreat in every instance it was attacked up until that moment.

The charging tanks suddenly found themselves at the monster's feet and several of them were crushed in rapid secession by its claws. The surviving ones backpedaled as quick as they could. They aimed their guns at the monster's face, trying to obscure its vision to buy themselves time to escape. They were partially successful.

Some of the shells were on target, forcing Varan to protect his eyes by blinking his transparent lids down over them. The smoke resulting from the explosions did make it hard for him to locate any targets for a few seconds. It also gave artillery just enough time to retrain their cannons and resuming their bombardment. At close range, they caused more than just a little discomfort for Varan and the monster was forced to back off.

The intensity of the barrage was increasing in frequency and accuracy as the artillery crews were starting to get into a rhythm and the gunners were learning to make minor adjustments to their aim through repetition. Varan seemed to understand the momentum of the fight was swinging against him. If he didn't do something dramatic soon, he was going to be in trouble.

Varan crouched down and launched himself in the air, aiming for a nearby cliff. The monster misjudged the distance though and it fell a little short. The sudden jolt of speed did give it a short reprieve from the cannon fire though and it began to climb the steep hill. Tanks below rushed forward again to keep the pressure up while the cannon crews were forced to reposition their guns.

From his vantage point, Reinhart could see what Varan was up to. The monster was climbing the cliff to make it into the relative safely of the water beyond the dam. Rains had been particularly heavy that month and the water beyond the dam was deep. If Varan was able to get into the water the artillery would be useless. The monster would be able to wait until dark and try to slip away in the night. After all the chasing they'd done already they would once again being trying to play catch up with the monster.

Suddenly, it looked as though the battle might turn once again. The artillery was again bringing fire down on the monster. Ironically, the shells that were on target were landing on Varan's back armor as it climbed and bouncing off harmlessly, while the missing shells were exploding against the rock face, which was destabilizing the soil the monster was clinging on to.

Reinhart could see that Varan was starting to loose its footing. It was struggling to find a place above it that was solid enough to hold its weight. The monster was a sitting duck, not able to progress any further up the steep ridge. It was just a matter of time before the artillery would be able to blow him off his perch. It looked like Varan was just moments from rolling down the jagged rock face. This was not not to be though.

Again, in desperation, Varan used his powerful hind legs to launch himself upwards. He managed to get just enough distance to find a more reliable perch to continue climbing. This time he was only a few dozen yards away from the top, which was little trouble for him to traverse before the artillery had a chance to reacquire him.

Varan made it to the top. It looked as though he was about to pull off another miraculous escape. But it didn't move. Instead, it just sat up there looking down at the men of the Wehrmacht, who would once again not able to immediately peruse it without a significant detour prior. Finally, the monster began to turn, but not to leave. Instead, it marched forward towards Fritz and Reinhart's truck on the opposite side of the Dam.

Upon reaching the dam, the monster dived into the water on the far side and disappeared below. Seconds later, the dam cracked from the monster ramming it's spiked head into it. Reinhart could tell because one of the monster's horns managed to puncture all the way though the thick cement wall. The horn retracted, allowing a spout of water to begin flowing through. The monster repeated the attack on a different section of the wall with similar results. Then a third time. It quickly became clear to the forces below what was about to happen. Reinhart and Fritz could only watch helplessly.

The fourth attack was finally more than the dam could take. It was already in shambles from the previous impacts. When Varan slammed into the dam for the fourth and final time, the whole structure gave way under the pressure. Varan, huge chucks of cement that had been part of the dam, and millions upon millions of gallons of water poured down on the tanks below.

Reinhart saw the whole thing from his perch. One by one, the men and machines below were swallowed by the flood. Tankers were engulfed and drowned under twenty feet of water, unable to escape their panzers. Trucks filled with troops trying to escape were swept clean off the road by the crushing waves. All of ground forces in the valley were wiped out in seconds, an entire German army obliterated.

That was bad, but what came next was worse. The flood waters didn't stop in the valley. Without the dam to hold back the the record amount of rainfall they had that year, it continued down stream northward and proceeded to wash out every bridge and flood every town it encountered along the way. Dykes and smalls dams were overwhelmed by the massive amount of water and also gave way, spreading the destruction even further. Magdenburg, Wittenburg, Luneburg, and finally Hamburg were overwhelmed by the flooding, causing immense damage to the cities and killing thousands of German civilians in the process. Bodies of the victims floated in the flooded streets to haunt the survivors.

The damage was not just limited to urban areas either. In the German countryside, crops were washed away and countless acres of rich farmland were ruined by the salt and sand that were spread in the wake of the water. The sediment would render those lands unusable for years to follow. Livestock was drowned in their pens unable to escape. Roads were washed out, which made getting aid to people in need even harder.

The mass of destruction was the worst natural and military disaster in German history. It was a knockout punch for Varan. Any immediate threat the Wehrmacht had posed to it was gone. The German army still had other military units all over the country, but nothing else nearby. The forces that were near would be caught up in disaster relief operations. From that point forward their first concern would be to help and protect their people from the ecological fallout the monster had created. Varan was mostly free to roam as it pleased. The Luftwaffe could still harass it, but that's about all they could do.

Having won the day, Varan waded it way through the water and began to move west unopposed.


	12. Chapter 12: Mothra's March

Chapter 12: Mothra's March.

Following the German's crushing defeat at the hands of Varan, the monster had slowed down. It began to travel westward through the green German countryside. Fritz and Reinhart were still tailing it, but they kept their distance. Without an army to back them up they'd be easy pickings if Varan decided he was hungry enough to go after them.

Fortunately, the monster seemed to be recovering its strength following the battle. Shortly after destroying the dam, it entered a small lake to rest. The lake was shallow enough that Reinhart and Fritz were able to see the monster's back spines protruding out of the water. They watched and waited as evening pressed in. Varan remained in the lake for forty-eight hours sleeping before becoming active again.

The Wehrmacht by this time had managed to throw enough units together to begin shadowing the monster again, but they had no plans to re-engage Varan unless he threatened a populated area. Instead, they focused their efforts on evacuating civilians out of its path. They stayed far enough back, or ahead, so the monster wasn't aware of them.

As the days passed, the strategy was proving to work well enough. Varan's pace was still slow enough that it wasn't too difficult for the Wehrmacht to operate around it. With no military pressure on him, Varan seemed content to take his time. Reinhart meanwhile was grinding his teeth the whole time. He hated letting the monster have free rein to do as it liked, but he knew there was nothing for it. The majority of the German military was still heavily engaged in disaster relief effort and would continue to be for some time.

Despite their efforts, there was still deep standing water all along the six-hundred mile length of the Elbe River. It ran right through the middle of Germany, ensuring that the disaster was felt by nearly everyone in the country. Most citizens of the Reich were either affected by the flood directly or had friends or family who were. Homes were lost, people were displaced. Some lives were ruined, while others were simply ended. Much of the economic recovery the Germans had achieved following the depression of after the Great War had been undone in just a day. The German stock market dipped to the lowest it had been in ten years.

Only after three days had the waters begun to recede enough to allow the bodies of soldiers drowned on the battlefield near the broken dam to be collected for proper burial and by that time, the flood waters had pushed corpses all over the countryside. Accounting for all the lost men was going to take a long time. Only the tank crews, trapped inside their machines, were easy to recover since the water could only push the twenty-five ton fighting vehicles so far.

A few miraculous survivors were found here and there, but it was only a handful of men out of the thousands that had been. Losses from the battle were virtually one-hundred percent. It was a black day for the German people when the causality report was made public. Reinhart knew what it would say, but he read the report with Fritz anyway.

"We threw everything we had at that thing and it wasn't enough." Reinhart lamented. "The most powerful weaponry at our nation's disposal and it all amounted to nothing. That thing killed thousands of our countrymen in mere seconds."

Fritz had little to say in response. He was still wandering through the fog of shock with everything that had happened. Reinhart perhaps had an advantage over him in that he'd already gone through something more traumatic with the monster prior. Reinhart sat in the truck with Fritz and stewed.

"This monster killed my parents and my brother because we didn't have the means to defend ourselves." He began. Fritz looked over to him curiously. "I'm going to change that. If it takes the rest of my life, I'm going to build a weapon that is strong enough to take that thing down." He promised.

Reinhart then exited the truck and walked away down the dirt road alone.

Meanwhile in France, Mothra had been significantly more active. She had not stopped once since hatching. The giant worm was like a machine, nonstop eating and moving, no rest. This took the French by surprise. They were having a hard time keeping up. They had assumed, wrongly, that she would likely move at a similar pace as Varan. But in the time it took Varan to cover thirty miles, she had managed to travel over one-hundred miles. Perhaps it was because he was cold blooded and she was not? Mothra was advancing Northeast, it was unclear what motivated her, but she was going somewhere at full speed. She only slowed down along the way to eat.

Dr. Jacquier insisted that Marcus, and the rest of Admiral Nimitz's entourage, continued to be part of the research team following Mothra. He noted that: The circumstances had changed, but the mission had not. He was still keen to study the monster. The name Marcus had coined for the creature had stuck and was being readily used to refer to her. That remained their most significant contribution thus far. They were hard pressed to keep up Mothra, she was pretty much consistently on the move.

Only one thing slowed down the research group initially. It was Dr. Jacquier himself, he wanted to ensure that all the left over portions of Mothra's egg were collected prior to them departing. He saw the fragments as precious samples and wouldn't risk any of them falling into the wrong hands. He placed a few calls to key members of the French Parliament, and with that, help arrived within hours in the form of a fleet of trucks and workmen.

Truckload after truckload was filled up the shell fragments. It took well over a hundred trucks to carry away the precious cargo. The vehicles lined up entire road to the facility, further than Marcus could see. One by one, they pulled away in a huge convoy carrying away their prize to a secret location for further study.

When they were done, Dr. Jacquier noted the investment in the egg had already been worthwhile. They had lost the Atrium facility, sure, but through Mothra's hatching, they had gained all the raw materials she left behind. The new mineral found within the eggshell could prove invaluable in the future. With their business at the facility done, the research group got on the road and began driving to catch up with the Larva.

It took three days before they finally caught up with Mothra. She was devouring another field when they found her. The team had however been keeping tabs on her through reports in the mean time. Marcus noted two important things from them:

First, Mothra seemed to be reluctant to engage the French military forces that were sent out after her. Marcus took a map and drew in her path since leaving the facility. It winded and weaved around. Mothra seemed to be actively avoiding French patrols. Whenever they started to build up in strong numbers ahead of her she'd change course.

Second, while Mothra was doing extensive damage to the vineyards she came across, she had in fact bypassed several large wheat fields and apples orchards.

France was the sixth largest country in agricultural production in the world and thee largest one in Europe. Many countries depended on France's export goods to feed their people. If those crops were to disappear overnight, a great famine would occur. Marcus could not be certain, but it appeared to him that Mothra was limiting herself to only eating the non-essential cash crops and bypassing the rest. How she could tell the difference was a mystery to him. He couldn't rule out that she just preferred grapes, given a choice.

Even limiting herself, Mothra had already eaten up over a billion dollar's worth of grapes. It was going to be a very hard year for wine drinkers. On the other hand, it was going to be a great year for those merchants who already had large supply of wine stored. At the rate she was going, Mothra would wipe out well over half of the total crop before she was done.

In the years to come, wine from 1940 was extremely rare and horrifically expensive. Oddly enough, it was a good year for wine as far as taste. So if you could get your hands on a bottle, it was expensive, but at least it wasn't disappointing.

The loss of crops was extensive, but not sacrificed in vain. Mothra had grown significantly since hatching. The larva was at least an additional third larger since the last time Marcus had seen it. If her goal was to get strong, the grapes seemed to be doing the trick for her. Not everyone was happy about that though.

French General Charles De Gaulle was put in field command in the operation to counter Mothra and he was a lover of wine. He seemed to take the larva eating up the grape crop rather personally. Even so, he was cautious to engage her after the German army was devastated fighting Varan. He was determined to be more careful.

The General's approach was patient, and he could afford to be. In addition to keeping her distance from the French military, Mothra was also avoiding populated areas. She was sticking to the wide open rural countryside, either to stay close the crops that could be found there, or other reasons. Either way, it kept the pressure off of De Gaulle to act prematurely. He could afford to wait until he was ready.

The General carefully studied the map and positioned his troops in ambush zones hidden along the way to the vineyards that were the closest in Mothra's immediate path. Then he hunkered down and waited to pounce. To his surprise, Mothra changed her heading before even getting close to the traps. De Gaulle was shocked, it didn't seem possible.

Somehow Mothra knew they were there, but it wasn't clear how. The ambush zones were over twenty-five miles ahead of her, and thus, they were literally over the horizon. So they were well out of visual range. The vehicles were stationary and their engines were off, so they could rule out that Mothra was feeling the vibrations of the tanks and trucks through the ground. It didn't seem likely that the larva could hear or smell them from that far away either, so the French were stumped.

General De Gaulle needed advice, and as he was the closest thing they had to an expert on the creature, he asked Dr. Jacquier how Mothra could possibly know they were there and avoiding them so easily? Marcus was listening in on the discussion and had an idea about it, but kept quiet. He was not the person the general asked and he wanted to see what the doctor had to say on the subject. Maybe his theory would line up with his own.

Marcus knew that Mothra was able to touch the minds of those around her within a certain proximity when she was in her egg. Now that she had emerged, it seemed reasonable to assume that she was still capable of doing that. In fact, Marcus figured the ability was probably even stronger now. He felt that she was sensing the other living creatures around her through similar means and using that to identify potential threats. If she was able to do that, it was easy to see how she knew exactly where to go and what to avoid.

Dr. Jacquier, however, made no such proposal and offered no theories. He instead plead ignorance and stated that he'd need more time to study the monster before offering any meaningful answers. His response sounded reasonable. Dr. Jacquier had not disclosed anything he told Marcus to anyone else, and because of that, General De Gaulle had no reason to doubt him. He accepted the doctor's explanation without question.

Marcus knew better though. He just stared at Dr. Jacquier, wondering what his game was. Only the two of them knew anything about Mothra's apparent ability. Was the doctor still trying to protect the monster? And if he was, could he still be under her influence?

This troubled Marcus. Since Mothra had hatched and traveled some distance away, he'd felt less impacted by her presence and more in control of himself. He figured that the doctor should be in the same boat. That suggested to him that the doctor was making his own decision with a clear head. But if that was the case, why would he keep the information to himself? Marcus pondered on it for a moment and came up with two possible reasons:

First, it could have been that the doctor simply didn't want to propose such a radical theory to men who had not felt the same influence themselves. Thinking back to when he tired to tell Brock about it, his response was skeptical, despite the fact that he himself had felt something strange while being at the facility. Marcus knew the theory would be a hard sell to normal straight-laced military men. He figured if he tried on his own, there was little chance they'd hear him out. Even if he had Dr. Jacquier backing him up, there was no guarantee they wouldn't both be labeled as crazy.

Second, the doctor might just have believed of his own accord that keeping it to himself was the right thing to do, even if he thought the others would believe him. Marcus mulled it over himself and wasn't sure what the right decision was. Mothra was not not inflicting massive damage on France. She was just trying to eat and survive. It was hard to blame her for that. She was also actively avoiding getting into trouble.

If there was going to be fight, it would be because they brought it to her. If Marcus kept his mouth shut however, Mothra might just be able to avoid the French military until she was able to get to wherever she was trying to go. In the long run, it might prove to be in France's best interest to let her do just that. Marcus got the feeling that Mothra would leave French soil of her own accord if given enough time.

None of them, not even Marcus, understood Mothra. They didn't know what she was or what she wanted. The big bug seemed to have a purpose, but Marcus couldn't even begin to guess at what that could be. Still, he somehow knew she had a part to play in whatever was to come next. His gut feeling was that helping the French military attack her would be wrong.

Marcus looked up from his inner thoughts to see that Dr. Jacquier was watching him. Perhaps the doctor was trying to ascertain if he was planning to say anything. When their eyes met, the doctor seemed satisfied with whatever he found there. Marcus turned and walked away from the main conference room, he had made his decision.

As Marcus exited, he found Williams pestering Brock just outside. Williams appeared unusually unsettled by the recent turn of events.

"So why do you think the giant worm would bypass the wheat and go for the vineyards?" He heard Williams ask.

"Maybe the little spud just likes getting loaded?" Brock answered. "Who knows."

"Do you think Varan knew what it was doing destroying the dam?" Williams rapidly changed the subject.

"I don't know, maybe it just likes Krauts to be washed before he eats them." Brock answered callously. Williams looked a little disturbed considering it. "Marcus said it's an amphibian, so it could be as simple as it likes its environment soggy. It's hard to guess at the motivations of a giant lizard."

"Amphibian." Williams corrected him.

"Yeah, that's what I said before." Brock said irritated. "Same thing."

Marcus could tell Brock was not in an approachable mood, so he instead retired to a quiet corner and sat down with a pencil and paper. He began writing a letter to Shauna. He had not written to her since before coming to Europe, so it was long overdue. He expected he'd be getting a little grief about it later.

Marcus set that worry aside and instead focused on recounting everything he hadn't gotten a chance to tell her about since his last letter. Primarily he wrote about his experience at the facility with the egg. It was still pressing on his mind and he had to get it out. He needed to explain his feelings to someone who wouldn't think he was crazy. Of course, he couldn't be certain what she would think of any of it. From an outside perspective he was sure it did sound crazy.

He wrote to Shauna just how bad of a place he had been just prior to coming to France and how it melted away after going to the facility. Even though he felt less influenced by the egg at that point, he had still retained the calm feeling it had brought him. He was grateful for that. He'd had a dramatic turn for the better.

Marcus concluded the letter by telling Shauna that he was doing fine and was going to continue to help investigate the monster for the time being. Also, that he missed her and he'd write again when he could.

In Japan, Akira had been summoned into a private briefing. Following his recent success, his superiors had another assignment in mind for him. There was trouble brewing to the north. Through their network of spies in Russia, the Japanese government had discovered that the Soviets were planning a massive assault on the Rodans by land and air.

The aim of the attack however was not meant to kill the Rodans, but rather to drive them out of Russian territory. Such an operation would likely result in immense causalities for the Russians, much like what the Japanese had incurred during their assault. However, the Soviet dictator Joseph Stalin, did not care about how many of his men had to be sacrificed as long as they accomplished his goal. He just wanted the pair of monsters out of Eastern Russian territories so he could focus on the west.

In the west, his efforts to invade Finland were floundering. Finish resistance had been far fiercer than expected and they were receiving more outside support than anticipated. The fact of the matter was the Russians were being slaughtered on the battlefield. Assault after assault failed to gain them much of anything and their casualties were quickly mounting. A victory in the east, even a costly one, would help bolster moral in the west.

The Japanese however were concerned that the Russians could drive the Rodans back into their own territory, which was unacceptable. Between that and the advantage of having the Russians fighting a prolonged war on their western border, the Japanese felt compelled to act. Their plan was relatively simple, they would launch a covert operation to disrupt the Russian's plan by sneaking an enhanced radio device into the Russian camp and activating it. The signal would draw the Rodans down upon the Russian's staging ground before they were ready to launch their attack.

The device would be similar to the one used in the earlier test, only stronger. The Japanese spies indicated that the Russians were already beginning to get into position in the staging area. Unfortunately, their routine radio chatter had apparently not been enough to get the Rodan's attention on its own. It was likely because the signal was too weak from such a long distance. Thus, Japanese would have to employ something stronger.

Akira understood the Japanese Navy was still in shambles and not ready for another engagement with the Rodans, so this mission's success was vital for the future of his country. He readily agreed to fly the mission.

In the Mediterranean, there was a unspoken strangeness in the aftermath of the earthquake. A subtle disquiet. The local fishermen living along the Libyan coast, where the earthquake had originated, felt it keenly. It was something they couldn't see, but felt in their bones. The foreboding feeling gnawed at the corners of their consciousness. Some of them stayed out of the water for a few days following the earthquake. However, none of them could afford to stay out indefinitely. They all had families to feed and livelihoods to make.

They ventured back out onto the open water and hoped for the best. Two days passed without incident and they had reasonable good catches. On the third day however the seas seemed deserted. There were no fish to be found by their nets and, by the end of the day, one ship failed to return to port. The day after, two more went missing. It was not unheard of for an occasional fisherman to be claimed by the sea, but for three to disappear in the space of two days, that was unusual. Following that, the remaining Fishing boats remained in the safety of the harbor.

The fishermen called a town meeting to discuss the missing men and ships. The villagers were scared and angry and were quick to find a scapegoat for their problem. Some of them suspected the local pirates of being involved. There were calls for an armed mob to gather and assault the pirate's lair to clean them out.

The leader of the local fishermen, Omar, decided they needed a more temperate solution, as there was no proof the pirates had anything to do with the missing men. He announced that he would approach the local pirates known as the Hayreddin raiders himself in order to ascertain wither or not they knew anything about the disappearances. It was a risky move on his part. If they were involved, he would almost certainly never return, but Omar didn't think they were. The pirates had little interest in the small affairs of the fishermen. They weren't wealthy enough to steal from. In fact, the two groups co-existed rather well, they often bartered with one another.

The pirates were typically more interested in the larger Italian supply ships that came through. Omar knew the pirate's leader personally and the reason he formed the group to begin with was to resist the Italian's occupation of their land. Libya had been taken from the Ottoman Empire in 1911 by the Italians and made into a colony. Not all of the Libyans were happy with that arrangement. Many fought back any way they could. Piracy was just one of the ways for them to hit back.

Upon approaching the pirates and discussing the problem, Omar discovered that one of their ships had disappeared too. He started to realize whatever was going on was bigger than either of their groups. The Hayreddin raiders were always well armed. They would not have succumbed easily to whatever took them. What they needed was a bonafide warship to investigate their troubles. There was a major issue though. The Libyans had no navy of their own to speak of. As much as Omar hated to do it, he knew he would have to swallow his pride and turn to the Italian navy for help.

Sixty nautical miles northeast, a large task-force from Italian Navy was running exercises. Specifically, they were out testing a new weapon. Though the Italian Fleet had taken no part in the international efforts to patrol for Angirus in the Pacific, the story had been widely covered on by Italian newspapers and their government were following the story closely.

Angirus had managed to elude the international fleet's combined efforts by retreating into waters deeper than they were able to pursue. While there were no signs of the monster since its defeat, it was still widely believed that it was alive and well, sitting just beyond the reach of the patrol craft above it.

Italy had the fourth largest navy in the world at the time and dominated the Central Mediterranean. With all of the advantages their powerful surface fleet brought them, the Italian Admiralty was concerned with running into a similar situation. The raw firepower of their Battleships wouldn't amount to much in the face of engaging a target that could remain submerged indefinitely.

They needed a way to respond if a Kaiju appeared in Mediterranean waters and retreated to the depths. As it happened, the Italians had already been working on a secret project for months that had been shelved, but with monsters like Varan and Mothra suddenly appearing in Europe, the Admiralty put there R&D department into overdrive to get prototypes produced for testing. Varan's rampage through Germany wasn't very far away from Italy's north border and that fanned the flames of their fear. They wanted to get prepared as soon as possible.

Their aim was simple, to be able to bombard an underwater target at extreme depths. Regular depth charges had their limits and proved to be vastly inadequate where Angirus was concerned, so they were trying to produce a new type of depth charge that could go far deeper with much greater firepower. If they couldn't kill a target, they hoped to at least be able to force it to the surface where their battleship's heavy guns could get some work done.

The Italian task-force was carrying the fruits of the R&D department's labors, the first Neptune depth charge prototypes. The Neptunes had twice the explosive potential of the next best depth charge and could go more than twice as deep as well. The bigger and badder depth charges required special rigging to be put in place to cater to their increased size. Because of that, destroyers could not be used and cruisers were selected to carry them instead.

The Italian sister cruisers Zara, Gorizia, and Fiume were carrying the experimental ordinance. They lined up in and orderly fashion and one by one let their cargo slip over the side. The charges were set to explode at a depth that would give the ships plenty of time to escape the explosions, but their captains weren't taking any chances and ordered the cruisers to flank speed once the barrels had made contact with the water.

Meanwhile, sonar operators were monitoring for sounds to measure the results of the test. Under normal circumstances, a depth charge would explode relatively soon after being dropped, as they were designed to attack submarines closer to the surface, but these were a different breed. Success would instead be measured by how long they could go before detonating. Tense moments passed as they waited for results.

Finally the sonar men heard the first rumble, followed by a gush of water exploding up at the surface. One by one, the charges were all going off at their desired pre-set depths. There were cheers aboard the Littorio, the huge battleship that served as the flagship of the fleet. The admiral signaled for the cruisers to set off a second set of depth charges, just to be through.

The cruisers responded to their orders and came about. They dropped their charges and the second set of tests produced similar results as the first. The only hitch was the sonar operator reported hearing a unexpected secondary explosion following the primary explosion of one of the depth charges. He wasn't sure why this was the case. It was possible that there was a minor mechanical problem, but if that was the case, it didn't stop the detonation.

The officer theorized that there may have derelict submarine sitting on the bottom of the ocean floor. What they heard could have been the pop of the hull rupturing. There were no active sonar pings prior to the testing and they had screened heavy ahead of time to be safe. They couldn't know for sure what happened, but it didn't overly concern them. Everything was quiet in the aftermath. The important thing was the depth charges had preformed as designed.

With that, the Italian warships sailed for home, the testing could be declared a success. They would be able to report back that mass production could begin.

In France, the situation had changed considerably. Mothra stopped eating crops and began heading due north. Her predictable established pattern of behavior was broken. The French had set up an ambush just ahead of her at the next vineyard in her path. Mothra came close to the field, closer than she had gotten to military units prior, but she still completely ignored them and the field. It could have been that she was simply avoiding the trap, but then again, something seemed different his time.

Indeed, after another three hours had gone by Mothra bypassed another field, only that one was completely unguarded. Marcus and the rest of Dr. Jacquier's research team had to scramble to catch up. They had been anticipating Mothra slowing down slightly to eat the unguarded field as she had done before. With that seemingly being over, they had to pile into the bus and get on the road to keep pace.

At that point, General De Gaulle knew it was time to escalate his efforts. If they were going to force a confrontation with Mothra, now was the time. He wasted no time getting his forces reorganized. His plan going forward would be more aggressive. The general placed tank platoons all over the map along the most likely routes Mothra would take. They were arrayed in a crescent formation with units forward on the wings and back in the center. If Mothra continued forward on her present course, she would quickly find herself surrounded on three sides by them.

From there, General De Gaulle's plan was relatively simple. He would use the tanks on the wings of his formation to funnel Mothra towards the center where he had concentrated his artillery. With so many forces fanning out on the flanks, avoiding them was virtually impossible.

Mothra pressed on, seemingly unconcerned with the French army closing in around her. General De Gaulle was a little surprised. Considering her behavior from before, he had expected her to at least try to maneuver away from his men. Instead, she stubbornly held her course due north, coming right at them.

From his command tent, De Gaulle watched his subordinates move miniature tanks pieces around on the battle map. As the recon reports continued to flow in, the tanks platoon pieces closed in inch by inch on the miniature representing Mothra. The general wondered what could be driving her? As it was though, the whys weren't so important. It didn't change what he had to do, which was to stop her there and then. He ordered his tanks on the flanks to press in and attack.

Above the battlefield, a squadron of French fighter planes loomed. They were loitering while waiting for orders. Their only assignment thus far was to keep taps on Mothra's movements and to report back to HQ. As she had yet to change course or speed, it was a pretty pedestrian job.

One of the pilots was Jean-Pierre, a young man from Orleans recently out of flight school. He was a little nervous as it was his first real mission. Heck of a way to begin a flight career. It wasn't what he imaged. He had always saw himself fighting against the German Luftwaffe when he signed up for the French air-force, but life always finds a way to surprise you.

With little else to do, Jean-Pierre just watched as events began to unfold below. He could see tanks platoons closing in on the monster from both sides. Things were about to heat up. The tanks lined up in an orderly fashion and started opening fire. Jean-Pierre could see the shells popped against the side of the massive worm. If they bothered the monster, it didn't show. It just kept moving, ignoring them. The tanks continued to fire and there was a near constant barrage. However, it was obviously that its hide too thick for tanks to penetrate.

As the barrage continued, Jean-Pierre heard the cracking of his flight leader's voice through the radio. Their squadron was to engage the monster. He tightened up and focused on the task at hand. The planes around him lined up and, one by one, banked left and then downward towards their target.

Jean-Pierre lined up the monster in his sights, but he didn't quite feel right about it. It didn't stop him from preforming his duty though. The flight leader in the plane in front of him opened up with his cannons and Jean-Pierre followed suit as if by instinct. One by one, the rest of the fighters let their cannons roar. Lines of tracer rounds dotted their way down towards the monster until they started to connect.

Jean watched as the red hot tracers from his cannons struck the worm. They had no effect. In fact, he even spotted a few of them bounce off. He got a sinking feeling seeing that. The planes pulled up and out after several more seconds of machine gun fire. The monstrous worm continued along un-phased. The planes reported the results of their attack and went back to tracking the monster.

Shortly there after, Mothra had reached the artillery lines in the center of the formation. The gunners kept their cool, quietly preparing to attack. The artillery was arranged on the hillsides, just lying in wait. Their orders were to wait until the monstrous worm had closed to point blank range, to ensure maximum impact. The monster played right into their hands. It chose to pass right between both of the primary gun emplacements. They were going to be able to bracket it with shells from both sides.

They waited until it was almost directly between them, when every one of their guns could be brought to bare. Only then did they began to hammer away at its sides. The artillery flashed and thundered violently, their shots almost instantly hitting their target. The monster was not able to shrug off the heavy artillery's firepower as easily as it had with the tanks. For the first time, it noticeably slowed and then stopped altogether.

Mothra's head began to turn toward the artillery on her right and she opened her mouth. From within shot out a focused stream of high-pressure silk. The silk raked its way down the line of artillery. The first man to be hit by it flew fifty yards like he had been hit by an enormous fire hose. As the stream went down the line of artillery, men became hopelessly suck to their guns, equipment, and the ground. They were no longer able to reload shells or do much of anything other than be stuck in whatever position they were in when they got hit by the sticky secretion.

One stubborn soldier was still able to move his arm enough defiantly fire his cannon one last time, but he failed to realize that the barrel had been blocked by the silk. When he tried to fire, the ordnance went off inside the artillery piece, blowing it, along with all the men around it, into little chunks. Following the explosion, the right wing of artillery fell silent. No one else even tried to fire another shot.

With that, Mothra turned her head and repeated the same attack to the left wing artillery group with similar results. She managed to neutralize both positions in the space of thirty seconds. The majority of men were still alive, but hopelessly trapped, unable to move. Because of that, they were effectively out of the fight. With the cannon's attack stifled, Mothra moved on.

By this point though, more tanks from the back-line reinforcement section had moved forward to support the cannons and appeared in front of Mothra to begin their own assault. The tank's opening rounds struck Mothra in the face. She responded in kind, once again using her silk to immobilize them. One by one, the tanks were hit and effectively frozen in place.

The tanks could not maneuver and, for the most part, could not rotate their turrets either. The crews within were still free to reload and fire unabated, but without being able to readjust their aim, they would not be able to hit Mothra once she moved out of their cross-hairs. One tank crew learned the hard way the same lesson the artillery men had. Some of Mothra's silk made its way far down into their gun barrel and jammed it up tightly. The tank exploded from the inside when a shell backfired on them. Choosing to continue the attack was risky business, the other tank crews passed on it.

With the tank column pacified, Mothra moved around them to avoid crushing them. The French had not given up though. General De Gaulle ordered in the heavy bombers he had waiting in the wings on standby. They arrived just a few minutes after the failed ground assault ended.

Mothra by this point seemed to be out of patience. She did not allow the bombers to get close enough to drop even a single bomb on her. She lifted her head towards the sky and shot web at them. Her silk hit the bomber's propellers and stopped their engines instantly. With their propulsion disabled, the heavy bombers fell from the sky like bomb-filled rocks. Each of them hit the ground shortly after and exploded on impact.

Jean-Pierre watched in horror as his fellow airmen died. Other French ground forces were closing in, but he could see that the battle was already lost. Jean realized it had been lost before it even started. He could see they never stood the slightest chance of stopping the monster.

Jean's flight group drifted to Mothra's side as they watched the last of the bombers get demolished. They quickly realized they too were within her ability to strike after seeing the bombers go down, but only after it was already too late. She could hear the sound of their engines and perceived them as another incoming threat. She turned towards them and let loose with another stream of silk.

Most of the fighters saw it coming and maneuvered to get out of the way, knowing only too well what would happen if it hit their engines. All but two of the fighters managed to evade the stream. Jean-Pierre however was one of the two unfortunate pilots who were not so lucky. His engine stalled and the nose of his plane dipped down toward the ground.

Jean-Pierre panicked, knowing that he was in serious trouble. He tired to remember his training. It became clear to him he had no choice but to abandon his plane. He grabbed the handle to his right within the cockpit and turned it to open up the plane's canopy, preparing to bail out. Only it didn't budge. He cursed and continued to struggle with it, putting as much of his weight on it as he could. His panic was growing more intense with every passing second. He knew he didn't have much time.

'Why won't it move?' Jean punched at the window in frustration trying to break it. It was at that point he noticed Mothra's silk had not only taken out his propeller, but also had hit the side of his plane's fuselage. The edges of the silk had reached the outer frame of the canopy. He realized that the silk was holding it shut and it wasn't going to open no matter what he did.

Jean felt a sinking that wasn't his aircraft plummeting from the sky. The plane was going to go down and he as trapped inside. He knew he couldn't do anything to change either of those things. He was going to die, it was inescapable. He only had a precious few seconds to make peace with it. Heck of a way to end a flight career. Life always finds a way to surprise you.

The fighter finally hit the ground and Jean's suffering came to an end. A general withdraw order was issued moments later. All French forces still engaged were ordered to retreat.

An hour later, the bus carrying the research team found its way to the battlefield. Mothra had long since moved on, but in her wake, she left a pretty good perception of how the battle went. The bus had to drive around the wreck of a fighter plane that had crashed directly onto the road they were on. Some fires were still burning from where the bombers had landed. Overall, there had been very few casualties, but anything hit by Mothra's silk was still right where she left it.

Other French units had arrived just after the battle concluded and were still trying to get their comrades out of the webby mess. Some men had even managed to trap themselves in the process. The French first tried to pull their fellow countrymen out by hand, which was laughably ineffective. Next they had tried to cut them out with axes and saws, which only saw them loss their tools to the silk.

The bus itself actually drove over a random strand of silk and lurched to a stop when one of the tires got caught in it. Marcus and Brock flew forward out of their seats crashed into the back of the seat in front of them. Brock issued a string of curses as they got to their feet. Marcus meanwhile wondered what happened and exited he bus to look. He had expected to see a pothole and instead discovered the silk holding the tire in place.

It was unclear how to best dislodge the bus or ensnared soldiers. Most of the artillery men were in no real danger, except for the few who were wounded by shrapnel from the exploding cannon. The rest would be ok since rescue teams had direct access to them. The real concern was the tankers. They were trapped inside their vehicles without food or water. If they couldn't devise a way to get to them quickly, they'd be in trouble after a few days.

On the bright side, they still had radio contact with the crews and advised them to remain calm. They were promised their rescue was of the utmost priority. The wounded artillery men were tended to the best they could be without being able to physically move them. Dr. Jacquier seemed to have other priorities. He was pretty pissed off that they wouldn't be able to immediately follow Mothra.

By the next morning, little progress had been made in freeing the trapped men and the tension was rising. The tank crews were getting stir crazy and claustrophobic being stuck in their machines for over twenty-four hours. It was starting to dawn on them that they could die of thirst in another forty-eight hours if the situation didn't improve.

Marcus and Brock were sitting and watching the French efforts fail. Marcus felt guilty wondering to himself if things would have turned out any different if he had said anything days ago when they had met with General De Gaulle. There was no way of knowing. He only wished he could do something to help. Brock was lighting up a cigarette and blowing smoke with a frown on his brow. Marcus just watched him trying to think, then it hit him.

"Brock, can I borrow that?" Marcus pointed to his lighter. Brock looked down an shrugged.

"Sure, but these things aren't go for you kid." Brock tossed Marcus the lighter and his pack of cigarettes. "You shouldn't get stared with them."

"The lighter alone will do, thank you." Marcus tossed the cigarettes back to Brock and then ran to nearest artillery piece. One of the trapped French soldiers jumped, surprised by Marcus' sudden appearance. The man said something to Marcus, but he couldn't speak French. Marcus rather assumed it was something along the lines of: 'Hey, what are you doing?'.

Marcus opened the lighter, ignited the flint, and then put the open flame under a strand of silk attached to the man's leg. The fire burnt right through it on contact. The French man seemed a little concerned that Marcus was going to light him on fire in the process, but fortunately the webbing didn't actually catch on fire. Marcus got goosebumps with the thrill of success. He then got to work, slowly cutting the rest of the French soldier free. Brock came up behind Marcus while he was in the process. He was still puffing out smoke when he saw Marcus' discovery.

"Brock, spread the word to anyone with a lighter, we can burn through it!" He requested.

"Can do." Brock smiled and flicked his cigarette to the ground.

Smokers in the camp were worth their weight in gold for the next hour. By the time they were done, they had managed to free all the trapped artillery men. The tankers were still trapped though. For them, something a little more heavy duty was in order. The French officers went and acquired some blow torches from the nearby town that had a machine shop.

It didn't take long after their return get the hatches to the tanks open. It would take quite a while longer to get the tanks back to operational conditions, but at least their men were free to enjoy the cool morning air of the French countryside. The bus was likewise freed, which pleased Dr. Jacquier beyond words.

Meanwhile in the Sea of Okhotsk, Akira had landed a large seaplane in the lagoon of the island outpost where he had previously tested the radio lure on Rodan. It was to be the final stop before the mission would begin in earnest. They just had to refuel one last time before heading out. The island garrison was also loading the plane up with additional fuel cans so they could refuel while in the air. It was going to be a long trip and since they were heading into hostile territory they wouldn't have a chance to refuel on the ground before getting back.

When the the seaplane had taken on all the extra fuel cans necessary to get to there destination and back they made preparations for take off. The extra weight made getting out of the water a little more challenging for Akira, but he managed. The benefit of taking off from the water was there was plenty of extra runway for him to work with. They caught air and were on their way.

The crew for the trip was kept to a minimum to save on weight. Aside from Akira, there was a co-pilot named Ken and two army soldiers. One of the soldiers was just a no name grunt, only there to help carry the device and by another gun if they ran into trouble. The other man, however, was a hard noised Japanese army officer who outranked Akira, Major Saito.

Akira was piloting the mission, but Major Saito was the one calling the shots. He had the coordinates for the rendezvous point with their contact on the mainland. He seemed to know them personally. Akira deduced that Major Saito was connected to the spy network in Russia in some way, perhaps as a handler, given his familiarity with their contact.

Perhaps it was just his nature or his years in the spy game, but Major Saito was cold towards Akira. Despite his efforts in the name of the Empire the grisled old man didn't seem to trust him. The Major only told Akira as much as needed to for him to carry out his role in the mission and seemed more concerned with Akira following his orders to the letter than anything else.

The mission's timetable was his utmost concern. He wanted them to stick to it as closely as possible. Akira could understand why. The longer their contact sat waiting at the rendezvous point the more likely they were to get noticed. They could have some troublesome questions to answer if they were found by the wrong people. On the other hand, if they arrived too early the plane could be spotted and that would be even worse.

The plan was to arrive in the dead of night to minimize their exposure, then get in and out of the Russian encampment unnoticed as quickly as possible after delivering the package. They would fly back out the following morning and hopefully get word of the mission's success upon their return.

As the hours went by, Akira had little else to do but think. It occurred to him that if it came down to it, Major Saito was probably the type of man who would rather gun them all down than allow them to be taken captive by the Russians for interrogation. Akira could understand why. The secrecy of the mission was just as important as the mission itself, probably even more so.

Failure of the mission could mean the Russians drive the Rodans out of their territory, but there was no guarantee that would happen. Discovery of the mission though, successful or not, could potentially lead to a second war with the Russians. At the very least, it would sour their already bruised relations and paint Japan very poorly within the international community.

Given that they had just strengthened their ties with the United States and European powers through their mutual cooperation with their operations against Angirus, Baragon, and Rodan, discovering the act of sabotage would be poor timing indeed.

Marcus and Brock had just piled back into the bus with the research team to continue their pursuit of Mothra, who was continuing Northward unopposed following the battle. The freed French soldiers wanted to take both of them out for drinks following their rescue, but there hadn't been enough time.

"So where is it going now?" Brock asked as they got sat down.

"Paris." Marcus answered. "My money says she'll end up in Paris."

"How do you know?" Brock asked perplexed.

"I don't really." Marcus answered. "It's just a hunch."

"She's heading due north right now. Paris is northwest of here. Less North and more West." Brock noted. "I'll bet you five dollars she doesn't go there." He challenged.

"So to be clear, if she goes anywhere else in the world other than Paris, I lose?" Marcus asked.

"Yep." Brock replied. Marcus considered it.

"Ok, it's a bet." He smirked.

A few hours later, Mothra had entered an area of farmland full of hedgerows. Hedgerows were mounds of earth meant to keep cattle in and to mark boundaries between tracks of land for farmers. They dated as far back as the Roman times. The mounds generally were raised a few feet at sharp angles and had trees and shrubs growing directly out of them. The gave the landscape a more majestic look, but they were also making it very difficult for the French Army to keep up with Mothra.

For the pursuing tanks and trucks, they were a terrific obstacle to overcome. The tanks could power over them, but not without slowing them down considerably and putting a strain on their engines. Going over them was not even an options for the trucks. They, along with the tow artillery and the research bus, had no other alternative but to go around.

Mothra on the other hand had no problem with them. She was simply able to bull right over them. With her size, they were barely a bump in the road. The tanks eventually elected to follow suit with the rest of the pursuing forces after figuring out just how many hedgerows they would have to cross over. Their machines would likely break down before they were done.

After crossing through the valley full of the hedgerows, Mothra changed course moving directly due West. The tanks and trucks of the French army were still caught up in the middle of the labyrinth of hedgerows behind her. It became apparent that she had only gone through there to shake off her pursuers. It looked like Paris was her goal after-all. Brock frowned at Marcus and then slapped five dollars into his hand.

The French government immediately panicked. There weren't any significant ground forces between Mothra and Paris and she was rapidly approaching the city. They began to evacuate Paris and threw together a last ditch effort to prevent the monster from entering the city. The French air-force commandeered as much pesticide as they could, which turned out to be many barrels full. Once obtained, they loaded them into heavy bombers and took to the sky.

Marcus was impressed with the ingenuity of the plan. The French must have figured that Mothra, being insectoid in nature, might share some of the same features of actual insects. The mode of action of the insecticide was to attack an insect's spiracles. Spiracles were the small external openings commonly found on the abdomen of an insect's exoskeleton. They allowed air to enter their respiratory systems, and thus, the poison would suffocate its target.

The bombers with the barrels of the chemical quickly found their target about forty miles away from Paris. They were careful to stay high enough in the sky to avoid being hit by Mothra's silk. It would be hard for them to pinpoint her from as high up as they were, but with the type of attack they had planned, accuracy was not going to be much of a factor anyway. They just had to get them to land close.

The payload was dropped from the bombers and the chemical spread all over the surrounding area as barrels smashed all around Mothra. Her body was engulfed by the ensuing cloud of mist. She stopped and took notice of the mist for a second, but then continued on un-bothered by it. As it turned out, Mothra was not the same as other insects, or perhaps it was simply that the scale of her organs made the chemical's mechanism of action useless against her. Whatever the reason, the attack failed and Mothra was on the cusp of entering the French Capitol.

By the next morning, Mothra had entered the outskirts of the city. Paris was a very old city, having been founded over two-thousand years ago in 250 BC by a tribe of Gauls known as the Parisii. In its long history, the city had seen many foreign invaders, including the likes of Julius Cesar, but it had never seen anything like Mothra before.

Paris was the center of the world in art and culture. The city was littered with monuments, landmarks, and other works that were irreplaceable. All of which were at risk of being destroyed with a giant monster on the loose in the streets. The city held its breath as Mothra entered.

Marcus and the research team had driven all night long and came into the city just a few minutes after Mothra had. The streets were empty aside from the few odd people curious to see the monster for themselves and the few French army units that had manage to enter the city overnight.

The damage Mothra was doing to the city was fairly negligible. She was mostly sticking to one wide avenue and avoiding buildings. On occasion though, one structure or another would get in her way and she'd topple it over with her mass by happenstance. Mothra seemed to have a goal in mind and nothing else was distracting her from achieving whatever it was.

As Marcus sped down the street in the bus, he couldn't help but feeling like he was on a tour. He was on a bus after all in the most visited city in the world. They passed some of the famous landmarks like the Louvre art museum and the Notre-Dame Cathedral. Marcus felt a sense of aw seeing them for the first time. He had never been to Paris, and even under the turbulent circumstances, the city was a sight to behold.

As they continued down the street and caught up with Mothra, her goal became clear. As it turned out, it was the Eiffel tower that brought her to the city. She was headed right for it. The tower, tallest structure in Paris, stood at eighty-one stories. It had been built for a World's Fair to celebrate the centennial of the French Revolution and had been a symbol French freedom for over fifty years already. Its reign was now threatened to be toppled over by a giant insect. The onlookers watched with baited breath to see what would happen.

Mothra came to a stop just short of the tower's base and looked up as if to examine it. She only paused for a moment. Whatever she had been trying to deduce, she seemed to be satisfied. The gigantic caterpillar crawled half of her body up the tower and began to spray silk high above her head. The silk hit the top of the tower and the spray that had gone straight up started to rain back down. It landed on the connecting strands on the tower.

The tower meanwhile was holding strong under Mothra's weight. The tough metal frame stood unbending against the extra weight and pressure of her body. The designing engineer would have been proud if he had still been alive to see it.

The bus came to a stop a few blocks away and the research team watched as Mothra worked. Slowly, but surely, her silk strands became interwoven and began to take form. Marcus finally understand what the larva was doing as it disappeared behind its webbing.

Two hours later, the process was complete and the larva had encased itself in a cocoon.

Quick little shout out to Jon and godzillafan1. I usually respond to all my reviews with PMs, but this is the best I can do since you two don't have accounts on fanfiction. Anyhow, I really appreciate the feedback. I put a lot of work into this.


	13. Chapter 13: Goddess

**Chapter 13: Goddess **

In the immediate aftermath following Mothra cocooning herself, no one was quite sure what to do. A few of Paris' residents came back before the military barred the roads.

The French government wanted as few civilians as possible in the city until they decided how to proceed. The military was keen to attack at first, seeing as the creature wouldn't be able to defend itself in its current state, but their plan was quashed by the civilian government when they caught wind of it. Though they had no issue with the military trying to kill the monster, they were however concerned with the potential collateral damage to the Eiffel Tower, which was a treasured landmark. The tower continued to hold up well under Mothra's weight and seemed stable for the foreseeable future.

On the second day, it finally occurred to the French generals that there was another possible solution which would not involve firing artillery at a historic site. Marcus had demonstrated the Mothra's silk could be cut with fire. It seemed reasonable to assume the webbing she used to construct her cocoon could likewise be vulnerable to fire.

The French military did have access to flamethrowers that had been developed during the prolonged period of trench warfare of The Great War. The generals were hot to employ them again. However, when using the potential weapon was brought up in a strategy meeting, Dr. Jacquier's voice was quick to ring out against them. He discouraged them, siting that such a strategy would be dangerous.

The doctor explained that he had been running tests on the strange material found within Mothra's eggshell and his findings suggested that it was volatile when exposed to extreme temperatures. Thusly, he suggested that the cocoon could also prove to be combustible if they attempted to set it aflame. He went on to say, if the military tired to burn the cocoon it could possibly trigger an explosion that could not only destroy the Eiffel Tower, but also damage or destroy numerous buildings in the surrounding area. He felt they would risk spreading fires all over the city if they acted rashly.

The Generals at the meeting were skeptical about Dr. Jacquier theories, but the civilian authorities on hand were horrified by the prospect of the tower or any other landmarks being damaged. They didn't want to take any risks, so Dr. Jacquier's argument prevailed and proved to be enough to buy the cocoon at least a few more hours while the French Parliament debated the issue.

By the next morning, word came in that there had been an explosion at the secret research facility where the egg shards were being housed. That was enough to convince the majority of National Assembly that attacking the cocoon immediately was too risky to undertake. They would have to look into alternative methods of dealing with it.

With fire ruled out, that left the French military with very few practical options to choose from. A more conventional attack with tanks and artillery ran the same risks. As it was, it seemed like their only recourse was to wait and see what happened. It was around this time that the French got even more bad news. Varan was continuing its trek west through Germany and appeared to be on course to cross over the French boarder. It was starting to look like the French were on the cusp of having a second monster threat to content with on their home soil and the latter of the two had proven to be extremely hazardous to human life.

Marcus was with Admiral Nimitz in the American Embassy when they received word. Understanding the seriousness of the situation, Admiral Nimitz was quick to pull out a map of Western Europe and began to mark out Varan's known locations in Germany. He was looking for a pattern. It didn't take long to see one. Since Mothra had arrived in Paris, Varan had shifted his trajectory from due west to northwest. There was no doubt Varan was on his way.

"Great, now we have to deal with an even more destructive monster?" Williams grumbled. "How will the French army stop it? That thing had no problem stomping the Germans. It'll have a buffet in the countryside with most of the French army up here in the north keeping an eye on Mothra."

"Don't panic, its got to get around one thing before it can do any of that." Admiral Nimitz assured him.

"It has to cross the Maginot line...?" Brock guessed. The Admiral nodded to Brock confirming he was correct.

"What's that?" Williams asked confused.

"You're joking right?" Brock balked at him, appalled by his ignorance. "It's only the most fortified defensive position in the World. It was built to keep the Germans out of France following The Great War." He turned his attention to Marcus. "I thought you said these things were smart, why is it trying to go through there?"

"First, I said kaiju were intelligent, not smart." Marcus pointed out. "Most animals are intelligent. Think about it in terms of dog breeds, intelligence can vary by wide margins."

"Yeah, my sister has a beagle, that little bastard is as dumb as a post." Brock noted. "It just sits in the back yard and barks at a stump all day."

"Thank you Brock, that was very helpful." Marcus signed. "Anyways, I'd say Varan is coming for the cocoon. Mothra is a sitting duck while encased inside it. Easy pickings if Varan is hungry and tired of paltry human portions. There's no way Varan could know about the defensive line between here and there." Marcus noted. "My knowledge of geography is limited, but I'm guessing crossing the Maginot Line is probably the most direct way to get to Paris from where Varan is?"

The Admiral used a pencil and a protractor to project Varan's course on the map. He confirmed that the monster's heading was taking him directly towards Paris. This lent weight to Marcus' argument. The admiral went a step further and did a little math on the paper and figured out that if Varan kept up his current speed he'd arrive at Paris in less than forty-eight hours.

"So that is why Mothra was in such a hurry to get here." Brock noted. "It knew Varan was on its way and is trying hatch before it gets here."

"That's what my gut says too" Marcus agreed. Just then he got a flash of an imagine in his mind and a jolt of fear shot down his spine. It was gone in an instant, but Marcus knew that they needed to ensure Varan was stopped at the Maginot Line to protect the cocoon. If they failed, something terrible would happen.

Within the hour, Admiral Nimitz made a call to Washington and it was quickly decided that they would be dispatched to the Maginot Line to see Varan for themselves. It was an easy sell. The Secretary of Defense felt that getting first hand information on the monster was vital. The Germans had not be very open with the Western Powers about what Varan was and what it was capable of.

Up until then, the United States had to rely on what their spies inside Germany were relaying. Mostly what they sent were pictures and articles straight from the German newspapers and the German High Command had kept a pretty tight grip on what they did and did not allow them to publish. Not too surprisingly, there was very little information on the total losses the German military had suffered or the extend to which the monster had damaged the country's infrastructure. Only some details about the monster had leaked. Thanks to the photos in the papers, they would at least be able to identify the monster on sight, but they didn't know how resistant to artillery it was or how it would fight when confronted.

After obtaining Washington's approval, Admiral Nimitz phoned General De Gaulle to get his permission to enter the Maginot Forts along the border as observers. Because Marcus had proved instrumental in rescuing French troops just days earlier, they were still in the general's good graces and it didn't take much convincing to get the him to agree.

It wasn't all just gratitude though. The general recognized the value of having American servicemen in the line of fire. If things went south at the battle with Varan, it would read well in American newspapers if some of their own were present for the fight. It would undoubtedly make the American public more sympathetic to their cause if they could relate to men on the front line. The French might very well need American military resources if they failed to stop Varan at the Maginot Line and capturing the heart's and mind's of her people would be a fine first step in ensuring their support.

Arrangements were made and a plane carrying the group of Americans was dispatched to an airfield near the Maginot Line along the projected path of the monster. An offered to bring Dr. Jacquier along was extended as well, but he refused. He was more interested in continuing his research on Mothra's Cocoon. Marcus suspected he just wanted to ensure the French Government didn't change their mind and try to burn the cocoon while he was away.

Off the Libyan coast, an Italian heavy cruiser and a pair of destroyers had arrived to investigate the rash of disappearances at sea. A large Italian supply vessel had been added to the list of missing vessels overnight, which is likely what brought about the rapid turn around time of the Italian navy's appearance.

Like Omar, the Italians almost immediately ruled out local pirates as being responsible for the disappearances. The pirates generally only raided Italian merchant ships they encountered. They would board, seize all the supplies they could carry, and then let them go on their way afterwards. Seizing entire ships didn't fit their normal M.O. Everyone seemed to recognize that something very odd was going on.

Omar watched from the docks as the warships swept the area looking for any clues. The didn't seem to be having any luck. The warships passed and Omar noticed something strange wash in with the tide. It was floating on top of the water, being knocked back and forth with each passing wave. It turned out to be a fish, at least in a manner of speaking. It was so bizarre looking that it took Omar a second to register it as a fish.

Omar had been a fisherman for close to twenty years and in all that time on the water he'd never seen anything like it before. The creature in question was intact, but no doubt dead. It was about a meter in length and had dark grey scales. It had two small eyes on either side of the head with proportionally large nostrils along with a huge gaping mouth filled with especially long, nasty looking sharp teeth. The fish also had an unusual limb protruding from its forehead. At the end of the limb was a bulbous orb that was semi-translucent. Its function was unclear. To Omar, it was easier to describe it as a monstrosity rather than a fish. Looking upon it gave him an eerie feeling. He felt like it was an omen. Storm clouds were forming in the distance.

Meanwhile in the Sea of Okhotsk, Akira was continuing to fly into the coastal waters of Russia. Having flown countless missions over China, Akira knew how it felt to enter enemy airspace, but still, this somehow felt different. If he made a mistake on this mission it could kick off a war, something he didn't want to carry the weight of blame for.

Akira tried to stay calm, but it was difficult not to feel the anxiety of the mission as they pressed further and further into Russian airspace. Up until then, he had been spacing out during the flight, allowing his thoughts drift to pass the time. However, he was now keenly alert, continuously scanning sky around him watching for trouble.

As it so happened, trouble seemed to find them. Akira spotted a Russian patrol fighter about one-thousand feet below them at one-o'clock. He instinctively reacted, jerking the stick backward hard and taking the seaplane higher. The seaplane was not a fighter though and the sudden jerk of the stick was not followed by a smooth climb upwards Akira had been expecting. Instead, the plane lurked clumsily and inside the aircraft the crew were jerked from their seats as the plane pitched. Akira could hear canisters of fuel clanging around and at lease one yell from behind him.

Akira had to ignore it though. His priority had to be to get the seaplane out of the line of sight of the fighter as quickly as possible. Luckily he found a nearby a patch of clouds that he could dive into. Akira flew the seaplane directly into it and disappeared into the safety of the fluff. His plan was to remain inside for a couple of minutes, hoping that the fighter had not spotted them and would move out of the area on its regular patrol route.

However, if the fighter had seen them, they'd be in a real fix. The seaplane was designed to be a transport plane first and foremost. So they wouldn't be able to out run, out fly, or out fight the fighter if it was waiting for them when they came out of the clouds. If it chose to engage them they'd simply be target practice.

To make matters worse, the seaplane was still loaded down with fuel canisters meant to get them back home. Their aircraft would go up like a box of match sticks if the fighter strafed them. Just one stray bullet in the wrong place is all it would take to blow them to bits. Akira could always try to duck into another cloud bank, but that would only postpone their problem. They wouldn't be able to hide forever and if the Soviet pilot called in their position, which they would undoubtedly do, they'd have a whole squadron of planes scrambled after them before long.

As Akira flew through the soup of clouds, not being able to see anything around him, he considered their options should the worst come to pass. They could always bail out, but allowing themselves to be captured would risk exposing their mission's true purpose. If he allowed the plane to be shot down it would be an international incident, but at least the Russian's would never know the extent of what they were up to. Either way, it didn't seem like they would escape the situation alive.

Akira leveled out the plane and Major Saito came into the cockpit looking for answers. Akira briefly summarized their predicament. The two agreed that staying in the cloud cover was their best option for the time being. Tense minutes passed as everyone aboard the seaplane knew that when they came out of the cloud cover, whatever they found would decide their fate. Either they'd be in the clear or cooked

Finally, Akira decided enough time had passed. He brought the seaplane out from the safely of the clouds and back into the open blue sky. Major Saito and the other soldier were glued to their windows in the back, searching for signs of the fighter on either side of the seaplane. Akira was looking straight up as they came out, as he expected the fighter would be waiting for them there if it was planning to ambush them. Meanwhile his co-pilot was looking down, just in case it attacked from where they weren't expecting it.

None of them saw anything but blue skies. No sign of the fighter whatsoever. They breathed a collective sigh of relieve. It seemed as though they had lucked out after-all. Akira's rough maneuver had spared them being discovered, though it had come with one minor cost. The foot soldier who accompanied Major Saito had been standing when Akira had made his sudden evasion and had twisted his ankle. While the injury was far from life-threatening, it did present them with another problem.

The soldier's primary purpose on the mission was to help Major Saito carry the device through the Russian countryside to the rendezvous point with their contact. With a bum leg, he wouldn't be able to fulfill his role. Someone would have to take his place or Major Saito would never be able to make the rendezvous on time lugging the package by himself.

Major Saito was eye-balling Akira's co-pilot for the job. Akira could easily read the fear on the co-pilot's face as he realized the risks that would be involved. The co-pilot was young and relatively inexperienced airman. He had never taken part on an operation on the ground before and clearly didn't seem ready for it. Because of that, Akira volunteered to go instead.

At first, Major Saito didn't like the idea of his pilot being exposed in the most dangerous part of the mission, but Akira assured him that the co-pilot would be capable of flying them back to base alone if necessary. Akira was physically larger an stronger than the co-pilot, so he was the better choice for sharing the burden. Hiding from the fighter had cost them valuable minutes already and Major Saito didn't want to loose and more time on the way there, so he agreed with Akira and the matter was closed.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived off the coast of Russia. Akira landed the plane and taxied it through the water into a nook that had been pre-selected to hide the plane. The site chosen made the plane hard to spot from the sky, but they put a camouflaged cover over it to make it even harder to locate just to be safe.

Once they had secured the plane, Akira and Major Saito took off their Japanese uniforms and put on Soviet ones. They wouldn't fool anyone up close, but at least at a distance they wouldn't stand out if they were spotted. One thing they had working in their favor was the close relations the Russians had to the Mongolians. Mongolia was a Soviet satellite and not generally recognized as sovereign nation of its own.

As such, it wasn't usual for Russians of Mongolian descent to serve in the Soviet military. Akira and Major Saito could pass for such men to the untrained eye. Neither of them actually spoke a word of Mongolian though and anyone looking closely would notice some issues. Mongolian people tended to be darker skinned than the average Japanese man, so the disguise wouldn't hold up under close scrutiny.

Major Saito handed Akira a soviet made PPSH41 sub-machine gun. It was known as a Papasha or "daddy" in Russian. It had a round magazine underneath. Akira thought it looked like a "Tommy-gun" that American gangsters were known to use. Major Saito explained that if there were gunned down during the mission they couldn't afford to be found with Japanese equipment on their bodies.

With that last vote of confidence, the pair grabbed a large duffle bag which had the eighty-pound radio device inside and became their journey to the rendezvous. They had to walk two miles inland to meet up with their contact. Even with two men, carrying that much weight over rough terrain was a fairly taxing ordeal. It didn't seem to bother Major Saito any, but for Akira it was an uphill battle.

At one point Major Saito stopped and had them put the bag down. Akira was most grateful for the break, but his relief was short lived. The major had stopped so he could inspect some tire tracks which had mowed down some tall grass ahead of them. They appeared to have been left there by a Russian truck, possibly a patrol.

They were too far away from the rendezvous point for the tracks to have been left by their contact. Major Saito guessed that the tracks had been made a couple hours earlier, so it was unlikely the vehicle that left them was still in the immediate area, but still, it put them on guard to know that Russians had been on the ground in that area.

The pair pressed on for an additional mile until the finally found their contact waiting for them. The man they found was likewise dressed in Soviet garb, but unlike them, he was in a officer's uniform. Their contact was a Russian and it became clear that if they were stopped, he'd be doing all the talking. He introduced himself as Vladimir Vanchaco. He was a survivor from the anti-communist Russian White Army that had fought against the Reds during the Russian civil war.

He hated the current Soviet regime and supported the Russian people returning to an Imperial power, that wasn't likely to happen though. The Russian he loved was long dead, which is why he chose to align himself with Imperial Japan. He didn't see it as betraying his country, he saw it as his country betraying him. His condition for joining the mission was he'd be allowed to defect. He wanted to repatriate to Japan and be granted citizenship. He couldn't stand watching his country be overran with communists. It was quickly becoming clear Stalin's idea of communism was even worse than Vladimir had expected. If he didn't get out soon, he'd be purged like so many other before him.

There wasn't too much small talk, both Vladimir and Major Saito were men of few words by nature and both were keen to keep things moving. They loaded the device into the GAZ-64 4x4 jeep that Vladimir had acquired and began driving to the Soviet staging grounds.

Marcus, Admiral Nimitz, Brock, and Williams landed at an airstrip located just adjacent to one of the Maginot forts. Marcus was awestruck by the sight of it. The unending line of fortifications stretched beyond the horizon in both directions like it was a mountain range.

In truth, the hillside fortifications were too short to be called mountains, but they were also too tall and imposing be called a hills. They were impressive to say the least. The entire line stretched fifteen-hundred kilometers, all the way from the border with Switzerland in the south to Luxembourg in the north. It had taken the French engineers nine long years and three-billion francs to complete it.

The forts were built directly into the hills and were impervious to most forms of attack, including aerial bombings and tank fire. Only the heaviest of artillery could hope to put a dent in them. The forts featured retractable turrets, which could pop out of he ground and fire and then retreat back down again for protection and underground railways, which could move troops and supplies quickly to anywhere along the line where they were needed most. For the troops garrisoning the forts there were state of the art living conditions, including air conditioning and an independent water supply. Men could live inside almost indefinitely.

The forts were designed to save manpower for France, which counted just thirty-nine million inhabitants versus Germany's seventy million. The French figured the next major European war would be a war of attrition much like the last one had been and hoped their extensive fortifications would help make up for the shortage in manpower. Their strategy was to outlast the Germans behind there defenses.

A prolonged defensive war would favor the French. It had been calculated that the Germans would eventually run out of resources as the war dragged on. If the French could just hold them off long enough the Germans would be unable to continue in time. With the appearance of Varan though, it seemed like the defenses of the Maginot Line wouldn't be tested by the Germans anytime soon. The monster had eliminated one threat only to take its place.

Marcus and the others were met at the entrance by a French officer who had been expecting them. He brought inside the main fort and offered to show them around, but it was decided they didn't have the time to linger and so they all piled into the underground rail system to head north to meet the oncoming threat. By that time Varan was only within twenty miles away from the forts and if it stayed on its current projected course, it would hit the line in just over an hour about six miles north of their current position.

Marcus road the rails through the darkness watching the occasional light flicker by above him on the tunnel ceiling. His group had been in the tunnel for almost a half hour already and his mind began to wander. He had always heard when people where close to death they would feel like they were traveling through a tunnel of white light heading for Heaven. The ongoing blackness of the tunnel make him wonder if that was what people bound for hell would see.

The train finally arrived at the proper underground station and they disembarked. As they came up the stairs leading to the main floor of the base they were met by a Brigadier-General who was in command of the forts. He informed them that Varan was still a little ways away. Admiral Nimitz commented on how impressed he was with the underground fortress. He had never seen anything like it before, which lead the general to take them on a brief tour of the facility.

The General pointed out the various gun galleries and casemates, the kitchens, the barracks, the power station, the communications room, the command center, the infirmary, the air conditioning plant, and the main magazine, which stored the majority of the forts ammunition behind large steel doors. Though they had only been in the other fort briefly, Marcus could see that the layout was very similar. He imagined that was so men transferring from one station to another rapidly wouldn't have problems adjusting to were things were.

"It sure beats the hell out of the snow forts I made as a child." Brock noted.

"Yeah, me too." Marcus agreed. Both of them where thoroughly impressed, as were Admiral Nimitz and Lt. Commander Williams.

The tour ended with them being brought to the peak of the observation post which housed the fire control tower. Marcus had to cover his eyes as there was real sunlight pouring in. He had been in the dark tunnels for so long they needed to readjust. After his vision transitioned the vantage point was breath taking. They could see the the green valley landscape outstretched for miles beyond the defenses.

A little closer to Marcus were the base's exterior defenses. There was miles of barbed wire, machine gun nests, mine fields, tank traps and other iron obstacles, anti aircraft guns, and portable artillery pieces that had been brought in to supplement the bases already impressive firepower. A battalion of tanks had also arrived and were getting into position in some of the gaps between strong points.

Just then, an aid to the Brigadier-General ran in and informed them all that Varan was within four miles of the defensive line. With that, Marcus and the others were rushed to an observation bunker, while the rest of the base was called into battle-stations.

Marcus ran through the corridors, dodging French soldiers that were getting into position. When he reached the bunker, he looked out and saw the same green fields and flowers from a position a little closer to the ground. It seemed serene. Anyone who didn't already know what was coming couldn't be blamed for being unable to foreseen the carnage that was imminent.

It didn't take long for the imagined image peace to be shattered. The rumble of giant footfalls could be felt within the bowels of the base and they were growing stronger and stronger with each passing minute. Finally Varan appeared over a hillside off in the near distance. The monster steadily moved in closer and closer to the fortifications.

Marcus finally got his first live look at Varan, and as he did, he felt a twing of fear hit his stomach. Varan wasn't unlike Baragon in appearance. No, it was not so different at all. There was one notable difference Marcus noted, though it was hardly comforting. Varan was slightly bigger than Baragon. Even at a distance, it was clear that Varan was the larger of the two monsters. However, Baragon was quicker. Having seen both in action, Varan was ponderously slow by comparison. Apparently the extra weight carried some disadvantages too.

Varan Roared and pulled Marcus away from his inner thoughts. He could swear Varan even sounded a little like Baragon. The small pebble of fear in his stomach grew into a softball sized rock upon hearing its roar. His chest felt tight with anxiety. Where had the calm that he felt around Mothra gone? It seemed to have abandoned him in that moment.

Shortly after Varan made his appearance, the long range artillery of the fortress began to open up. The force of the big guns shook the fort around them. The thunderclaps of shells echoed all over the valley and against the hillside fort. Varan pressed forward undeterred and the mid-ranged artillery joined. One by one, every gun within the fort joined shelling as Varan closed the gap gradually. The surrounding fortresses joined in as well and before too long Varan was completely engulfed by the hail of fire.

Through years of preparation and live fire exercises the artillery was raining down with exceptional accuracy. Every yard of the landscape had been pre-measured by engineers. They had determined and marked out on map the specific elevation and degrees to which the gunners needed to put a shell on a target anywhere within their defensive perimeter. And they had done so for each gun emplacement in the fortress.

The intensity of the barrage did seem to be affecting Varan, however the monster was still somehow able to struggle forward though the torrent of cannon fire. There were so many explosions that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the next began. The once green fields around Varan were quickly being shredded by craters of exploding shells. The scent of burnt soil and gunpowder was heavy in the air.

In an effort to escape the firestorm, Varan changed course. He was no longer heading in a straight predictable line towards the fort Marcus occupied. Instead, it dashed left and moved towards the neighboring mound of turrets. The amount of smoke and particulates in the air had rose quickly as the battle progressed. It worked in Varan's favor. His change in course was not immediately noticed and the guns continued to fire on where they expected Varan to be instead of where he actually was. Even something as big as Varan could be lost in the heavy banks of smoke that polluted the battlefield. The artillery's accuracy was hindered more and more with each shot that was fired.

Varan was obscured long enough to allow him to advance close to the outer defensive line. In fact, he was close enough to start setting off landmines. The mines weren't effective though. They were meant to kill regular foot soldiers and had little effect on a monster Varan's size. He barely seemed to noticed the series of crackles under his feet as he continued forward.

Varan next came upon the hedges of barbed wire that were intended to halt infantry assaults. Men manning machine guns nests on the far side of the quagmire of wires opened up on the monster. They proved to be next to useless. Even the thinner armor of Varan's underbelly was too thick for regular bullets to penetrate.

The barbed wire only managed to slow Varan down for a second or two before it overstretched and snapped. Only a little bit of it remained tangled on Varan's front paws, but they did not hinder him whatsoever. The barbs were dug into his skin, but didn't penetrate nearly deep enough to have any impact. With the monster coming at them, the machine gunners retreated down the passageways of their galleries, seeing the futility of their attack.

The tanks dotting the hillside began their attack, which was less accurate and focused than the artillery had been. Varan had made his was under the minimum range of the heaviest artillery within the hillside by that point and that's when the defenders started to realize that they were in serious trouble. There were still plenty of smaller caliber cannon turrets that were meant for close range fire against tanks and other intruders within the perimeter, but they had a lot less stopping power than their larger counterparts.

They didn't do enough against Varan's armored hide. The men in the outer defenses began to abandon their positions as Varan had passed beyond all the remaining obstacles separating them. One of the braver mortar crews stayed behind to carry on the fight and slow the monster down, but were snatched up and eaten by Varan for their trouble.

Varan trampled his way up the hill of the fortress and tore open the first turret he came across. The men inside met a similar fate as the mortar men. One by one, turrets were smashed open and any gun crews who failed to flee in time met with a gruesome end.

With the defensive line penetrated French aircraft that had been waiting above rushed down to try to repulse Varan and force him back down the hill. They had little effect. The fort was torn to bits section by section. Varan dug into the tunnels like an aardvark tearing down an anthill and ate anyone it found. One of the French fighter/bombers came in too low trying to hit Varan in the face and was swatted by the monster's paw.

The plane veered out of control and crashed into the main entrance of the fort Marcus occupied. He could hear French soldiers shouting though the tunnels as the entrance collapsed from the force of the impact. A second after the crash a bomb that was still within the aircraft exploded causing further chaos within the fortress. A small amount of smoke even found its way up to the observation bunker.

Meanwhile had Varan finished with the adjoining fortress. Marcus could hear the shouts from the surviving French troops running through the tunnel towards them. Sporadic fire was still hitting Varan, but not enough to deter him. In fact, the attacks seemed to enrage the monster, which made it advance on the fortress Marcus occupied.

A few tanks between fortresses felt Varan's wraith as he used his front claws to smash them to pieces. Marcus could hear more shouts of French soldiers within the fort abandoning their positions. After what they had just witnessed, he couldn't blame them. In fact, Marcus and the rest of his team took it as their queue to leave as well. They ran from their bunker to join the retreating French men, only to find a disaster in the tunnels below.

Not only had the plane crash collapsed the main tunnel, but its bomb's explosion had also partially collapsed the train tunnel, which would allow them to escape. Men could still get through it, but only one at a time and on their hands and knees. With the added men from the neighboring fort, there were nearly a hundred men all stacked up. No one wanted to go back through the fallen fort's tunnel, and because of that, there was a bottleneck at the only remaining escape route.

They were losing precious time. Varan would attack the fortress any second. Marcus knew if they didn't do something quick they would probably all die buried inside. He needed to buy everyone more time to escape. Marcus had a sudden flash of inspiration and knew exactly what he needed to do. He told Brock that he would need his help, but Brock was hesitate to leave Admiral Nimitz's side.

"Give me your lighter!" Marcus asked. It was more of a demand than a request. Brock handed it over.

Out of nowhere, Williams stepped forward and volunteered to help. There was no time for a discussion, so Marcus nodded and ran back inside the dark corridors of the fort with Williams close in toe. Marcus found his way to the main magazine that they had seen earlier. It was located under one of the main turrets and contained the lion's share of the fort's ammunition. Luckily for them, someone had left the door ajar in their haste to retreat.

"We need to work fast and careful." Marcus said to Williams as calmly as he could, adrenaline was pumping through his system as he tried to think. "Somewhere in this room there are fuses. You need to find them and bring them to me." Williams nodded and took off to look for them. It sounded simple enough, but with everything in the room labeled in French it made William's task that much more difficult. Marcus and Williams both felt a thud as Varan began to rip into the outer defenses of the fort. The clock was ticking. They didn't have much more time.

While Williams ran up and down the corridors of the room ripping open any promising looking packages, Marcus was opening a keg of black powder propellant and made a long line of it around the room leading from the main powder stockpile and to the outer doorway. Once the line was complete Marcus ran back to the powder storage and started opening more of the kegs up with a nearby crowbar. He ensured their was a large line of powder connected directly to the main supply and another line leading to the pile of artillery shells.

"I've got it!" Marcus heard Williams shout from the other side of the room. He ran back to Marcus with his prize in hand. "Here." He handed it over to Marcus who took the fuses and started to tie three of them together end to end. "Wait, what are you planning?" Williams asked.

"A fireworks show for our visitor." Marcus muttered back to him.

"Jesus Marcus!" Williams exclaimed. "You're going to end up blowing us up right along with that thing!"

"It beats getting eaten by it." Marcus snapped back at him impatiently. "Get going, I can handle the rest on my own." If you happen to see anyone still in the fort on your way back to the bottom, tell them to get the hell out." Marcus instructed. Williams just stood there staring at Marcus. "What are you waiting for? Get going."

Williams spared just a moment more before bolting out of the room. The fort was still shaking from Varan's assault. It sounded like the defenses were crumbling fast. Marcus did not waste time, he focused on getting the job done as quickly as possible. Finally, he was satisfied with his work and put the fuse into the end of the line of black powder. He pulled out Brock's lighter and in a flash the fuse was ignited.

Marcus ran for the heavy steel outer door and pushed it closed with all his might. The door was heavy and didn't move easily, but he got it shut. Once it was closed he then sealed the hatch, making it nearly air tight. The effort cost precious seconds to do, but it was vital that it get done. Marcus could tell that Varan was very close by, the intense rumbling in the tunnel around him was all he needed to hear to know it.

With his job done, Marcus dashed through the tunnel knowing at any moment it could come down on him under Varan's weight. Indeed, some bricks were starting to come loose above him. Dirt was failing from the ceiling and raining down onto Marcus as he tried to escape. He was racing both the monster and the fuse he had lite. If either of them caught up to him before be escaped the fort, he'd be dead.

Varan must have really been putting his weight into his attacks. The tunnel was quickly deteriorating around Marcus. A brick hit him in the shoulder as he ran. It dropped him to the floor for a moment, but he quickly recovered and got back to his feet. The thought of being buried alive helped keep Marcus' feet moving. He could feel that his time was running out. Any second the powder would ignite the arsenal and he was still one floor away from the bottom.

At the moment Marcus reached the stairwell that would take him to the ground floor, the ceiling to the main barracks room behind him gave way and completely collapsed. Marcus lost his footing and nearly fell head first down the stairs. Luckily, he was able grab the guard rail and caught himself. As he staggered to a stop, he could see the dirt and soil piling in behind him. It occurred to him if he had been just a few seconds slower, he would still have been in the room when the ceiling collapsed and never would have left it. Marcus had no time to dwell on it though. He continued on.

Only a few seconds later, the powder magazine finally exploded. In an instant, half of the hillside fort erupted upward, blown away in a horrendous explosion. Varan himself had insured the the force of the explosion had nowhere to go but up between digging up so much of the earth around the defenses and collapsing the tunnels below. The fact that Marcus sealed the steel doors of the magazine also played a role in bringing the force of the explosion right into Varan's face. The monster was blown clean off the hillside and landed hard in the valley below on its back.

Varan just lay there stunned for a few seconds having no idea what had just hit it. Debris landed all over the valley for miles around. The explosion had knocked the wind out of Varan, which was a new experience for the monster. As soon as Varan could get in a breath it rolled onto his feet and began to beat a retreat back into Germany. He had decided he'd taken enough abuse for one day.

Marcus meanwhile crawled towards of the rail tunnel on the other side of what remained of the fortress. Aside from some cuts and bruises he was mostly ok. Marcus was however covered from head to toe in dirt. The funny thing was Varan had in fact saved his life. Even with the steel doors Marcus put in place, the force of the explosion would have gone right through them and straight through the tunnels behind him if the monster had not collapsed them. In more ways than one, Marcus was lucky to walk away.

Back in Russia, Akira, Major Saito, and Vladimir were nearing the Russian's staging ground. Vladimir had scouted it out earlier, so he knew exactly where to go. He stopped the Gaz 4x4 on a cliff out of sight just short of the Russian camp. From there the three men crept up through the long grass to look down upon it.

Akira was shocked to see just what a mess it was. It could best be described as an organized rabble. It was clear to him that Stalin's purges were still having an impact on the Soviet army's organization. There were thousands of tents, but they didn't seem to be put up in any organized fashion. It just looked messy.

The outskirts of the camp were bustling with activity as supply trucks came and went constantly. There didn't seem to be any guards posted to keep tabs on any of the vehicles as they moved in and out. The trucks were more or less allowed to come and go as the traffic in front of them dictated. There were no ID checks, no inspections of the vehicles. Their priority just seemed to get things done as quickly as possible.

Vladimir looked over to the Japanese men and smiled. He knew this was going to be easy. Vladimir already looked and sounded the part if anyone bothered to approach him, and without any ID checks of any kind, it was highly unlikely that he'd be scrutinized.

The plan had been to sneak into the camp during the night if security seemed tight. If Russian security looked particularly bad, they could always activate the device nearby the camp instead and not risk getting caught. Drawing the Rodans to the general area would probably prove good enough, but none of those back up plans were necessary anymore. They were going to be able to place the device right under the Russian's nose.

Vladimir pulled some gas masks from the Gaz and handed them to Akira and Saito. The Russian's had used gas in their last battle with the Rodans, and even though they should have known better than to try it again, they couldn't be too careful.

Since Vladimir could hardly risk opening the bag in the middle of the Russian camp, Akira took the radio transmitter out and activated it in the 4x4 and then hid it safely back inside the bag. With that done, Vladimir left the pair of Japanese men in their hiding place on the ledge and drove down towards the camp on his own. He cut his way into the line of trucks as if he were a scout returning and slowly crawled his way through the traffic into the camp. They were at the point of no return. If Vladimir were to be discovered at that moment, they'd be in it deep.

After entering the outskirts of the camp, but before reaching the supply depot, Vladimir pulled away from the line of trucks and found a nice quiet place to deposit the bag. The device was difficult for him to move on his own, but he was a big and strong man and managed it nicely. Saito and Akira eagerly watched him through their binoculars. Vladimir was being very careful not to attract attention to himself and was being almost universally ignored by the Russian soldiers around him. With the device in place Vladimir spared a few more moments to obscure the bag by piling a few other supplies around it. In its new hiding place, it was unlikely that someone would stumble upon the bag by accident.

With the device activated and safely hidden within the Russian camp, Vladimir got back into the Gaz and slowly made his way back out of the camp. It only took him a few minutes to break away from the line of trucks bound for a station of the Trans-Siberian Railway to get more supplies. He returned to their hiding place on the cliff and waited for Major Saito and Akira to join him.

"It is done, we can leave now, yes?" Vladimir said to Major Saito.

"No, we can't." Major Saito replied.

"What do you mean?" Vladimir asked shocked and annoyed. "The longer we stay here the more likely we are to get caught."

"Yes, I am aware of that." Major Saito replied coolly.

"Then why are we staying?" Akira asked anxiously.

"Orders." Major Saito replied. Akira just sat there confused. Saito could see that his answer wasn't going to be enough for his two companions, so he elaborated. "We need to wait and see the results of this first hand." He began. "Ensure that the job gets done and that the device isn't found afterwards. There are explosives inside the transmitter's casing. If the Russians find it before the Rodans arrive, I'll blow it up. If the Rodans do arrive as planned, I've been instructed to explode the device during the fight. We can't leave any evidence for the Russians to find in the aftermath." Saito Pulled out a radio controller linked to the radio transmitter's hidden explosives.

"There was a bomb in that thing the whole time were were carrying it?!" Akira exclaimed.

"Yes." Major Saito replied coolly. "What, you thought the thing was so heavy just because of radio parts?" He smirked at Akira for being naive before going on. "Command also wants us to take note of how the Rodans attack during a land battle. We've seen them in the air and on the ocean. They kicked our butts in both cases. Maybe they will prove to be more vulnerable on the ground?" He suggested. "I doubt it though. Anyways, I personally don't mind sticking around to watch some Russians die, I lost an uncle during the Russo-Japanese War. What say you Vladimir?"

"I would prefer to leave, but watching Bolshevik vermin get crushed is tolerable." Vladimir replied. Saito turned to Akira.

"Orders are orders I suppose." Akira agreed. He didn't like it, but he didn't have a choice.

Hours passed as the three men waited. Each passing moment increased the chance that they would be discovered by the Russians and each passing moment the tension seemed to rise. Akira tried to ignored the the fear he felt in his chest, but even the stone-faced Major Saito was sweating. All of them had expected the Rodans to have appeared a while ago. The thought of having to explode the device and making a run for the coast had crossed each of their minds. It seemed to be the most likely outcome as they continued to wait.

The day had grow more overcast as they waited and in no time, clouds covered every inch of the skyline. With little else to do, Akira just watched the Russian in their camp below. He saw something troubling brewing, several tank crews had started up their T-34s and were moving out of the camp. One of the tank commanders noticed the trail Vladimir had left through the grass and stopped his machine to eye ball it. The officer looked at the lines with suspension. He grabbed his mic from below and then popped back up appearing to report his findings.

Akira's heart was pounding in his chest from the tension. He was about to nudge Major Saito when something else caught his attention. The clouds above them were moving, and not in the regular way that clouds move. Sections of the clouds were churned in swirling ominous wisps. There was no noise, but Akira knew something was awful wrong.

In the camp below, the Russians had no idea that anything was happening. They had no real reason to be alert and none of them were watching the skies. Akira watched as the alarming scene continued to develop. Finally, he hit Major Saito who was laying in the grass next to him on the shoulder to call his attention to it. Major Saito in turn nudged Vladimir. The three just watched as the clouds continued to move around in an usual manor. A soft breeze began to blow. Slowly and steady, it began to grow stronger.

A Russian soldier finally caught wind of something not seeming right and looked up to see the clouds churning above them. One by one, the soldiers stopped what they were doing looked up until nearly the entire camp was transfixed on the skyline.

It was then that something dipped down from the cloud cover several miles away. At first, it was too far away to tell what it was. The soldiers could only make out a dark blot in the distance, but it was coming at them, and coming fast. Akira could hear men in the camp shouting in Russian as it approached, but he didn't have a clue what any of it meant. Clearly what they were saying was urgent. Soldiers were running in all directions, most of them were scrabbling to grab their weapons or piling into vehicles.

Within seconds, it was clear that the object coming at them was one of the Rodans. It was moving at full speed, coming in low to the ground, right at the Russian encampment. Time seemed to slow down despite the monster's rapid approach. Second by second, it closed in until it passed directly over the camp. The supply base might as well have been hit by a five second hurricane. Every single tent in the camp was uprooted instantly. Most of the soldiers who had not found their way into a heavily armored vehicle found themselves likewise flying in the air. Those men that were close to armored vehicles at the time, but not inside them, wished they hadn't been. A great many of them were dashed against the hard steel plates of tanks. Very few survived the impact.

Men who had made it inside of trucks were only marginally safer. The sudden concentrated micro-burst of wind sent the majority of the trucks flipping crashing into anything around them, rolling over men and machine like. Some bounced off of the T-34 tanks and a few even exploded, starting fires all around the camp.

Though their position was a fair distance away from the Russian camp, Akira and the others still felt the impact of the attack. The force of wind was so strong that Akira held on to a tree to ensure he didn't catch air. Major Saito and Vladimir meanwhile remained in the tall grass hugging the ground. The grass stocks whipped harshly against their faces as the hurricane level wind pushed through around them.

Above the camp, Rodan made a pinwheel turn and came back around for a second pass. This time the monster was a little higher up and crossed the section of the camp that was further away and hadn't been hit as hard the first time around. This section happened to be where the BM-13 Katyusha rocket trucks were parked and they didn't fare any better than any of the rest of the soviet trucks had before them. They flew into the air and their rockets scattered all over the camp exploding violently.

The second pass also caused the fires from the first pass to spread quickly in the whirlwinds. Some of the Russians who had been lucky enough to have survived that first attack were caught up in the fire unable to move. Before long, Ammo stockpiles were overran by the fires and started to explode causing even more widespread destruction. It was at that point that Major Saito chose to set off the explosives within the radio device. In all of the chaos and confusion, one more explosion would hardly be noticed. Akira didn't much like the timing of it though, it felt like kicking the Russians while they were already down.

One Russian truck had survived in the hellscape and attempted to flee at full speed. Rodan was heading the opposite direction and hadn't yet seen it, so it looked as though they were going to make a clean get away until the second Rodan came down from the clouds and pounced on it. To Akira, it looked like a hawk diving down on a mouse. The truck and its occupants were immediately crushed under her talons.

The first Rodan came back around and landed inside the devastated camp. He went to work crushing the T-34 tanks he found there, as if he was personally offended that they survived his attack in the initial assault. The second Rodan quickly joined him and together they picked apart what remained of the Russian's assault force. Akira looked on in horror. The smell of burning flesh hung in the air and he saw one of the Rodan tilt its head back and swallow what used to be a man.

"They're eating people!" Akira growled to Major Saito in disgust. He had not witnessed that before. Akira had seen men die in battle and he had fought the Rodans before, but never in his previous encounters with them had they done something so blatantly monstrous. He could hear the distance shrieks of soldiers as they faced death. It was terrible, but the worst part about it was knowing that he played a part in making it happen.

Major Saito meanwhile was satisfied with what he had seen. The battle was over and their mission was a success. There may still be Russian tanks firing on the Rodans, but it was already abundantly clear that they would do no good. It was just a matter of time before they too were destroyed. Major Saito decided they needed to clear out while the tanks still held the Rodan's attention.

In Libya, Omar was sitting the beach and watched as the Italian warships returned from their sortie down the coast. It was hard to tell, but he got the impression that they hadn't found what they were looking for. Omar could see crewmen walking slowly along the decks and they didn't look enthusiastic.

Omar got up and started walking down the beach. As he did, something washed up in the sand in front of him. It was the bow of a small boat that appeared to have been torn away from the rest of the ship. Splinters of wood still hung off of where it had been attached to the rest of the vessel. A portion of the name could still clearly be read on the side. It was 'Zafar'. Omar recognized it to be from one of the missing fishing ships that had belonged to one of his friends.

The small hope Omar had been clinging onto for his friend's safe return was snuffed out by the sudden appearance of the wreckage. He began to tear up, but then heard a noise from the ocean. It was a low rumble or hum, very out of place from the normal sounds of waves and seagulls he was accustomed to. Omar turned his head towards the water just in time to see one of the destroyers that was about two hundred yards out get snapped in two. The bow and the stern both jerked out of the water upwards as the mid-ship section of the destroy sunk under the waves. The ship was sheared in half and the bow and stern fell back into the water.

The two remaining warships rang out their alarm bells and their crews scrambled into general quarters. The second destroyer was the nearest vessel to where the first had been and was the next to fall victim to a lethal attack. A tail rose from the water and came down hard on he aft section of the ship. It was crushed and the destroyer started taking on water at an alarming rate. It was out of the fight.

The surviving cruiser took evasive action, turning out of the path of the two wrecks in front of it. It was then that the attacker finally decided to reveal itself. An enormous green carapace rose from under the waves, followed closely there after by a head with a beak that was still clutching the remains of the midsection of the first destroyer. Ocean water rolled off of the creature allowing more of its features to become clear.

To Omar, it looked like a mixture of a snapping turtle and a dragon. It had clawed hands and two horns growing out of the back of its head. It had predatory yellow eyes with sharp black pupils. Its tail was short and had what resembled a mace at the end. The mace-like structure was made up of bulbs of armor with spikes jetting out in a rows of three on the top bottom and each side.

The Italian cruiser was able to fire off several salvos with its main cannons, but the rounds bounced off the armored chest of the monster. Unlike Baragon or Varan, this creature's underbelly was just as well armored as its back. Seeing his vessel's firepower was next to useless, the captain of the cruiser tried to make a run for it.

The ship turned hard to port, attempting to build its momentum and make it into the open ocean to escape, but the creature was too close already and was able to get its claws around the ship's hull. The monster's head dipped down and its beaked mouth bite into the ship's superstructure tearing away the bridge and the command crew with it. The creature's jaw power was impressive. The steel armor of what was left of the bridge immediately bent like it was made out of paper under its strength.

The rest of the cruiser was left without its nerve center and floated helplessly. The monster soon fell upon it as well, using its considerable body weight to force the ship under. The hole the creature had created in the vessel's upper hull quickly filled with salt water which sealed the cruiser's fate. When the monster was done with the the ship, it turned its attention to the shore. Omar felt like his skin was turning white. It seemed like the monster was looking directly at him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he was froze with terror. An untold amount of time passed.

Finally, Omar came back to his senses and he could feel the monster's footfalls getting closer and closer. He saw that the monster was only one hundred yards from the shore by the point and closing quickly. The creature was huge and dominated the mostly flat landscape behind it. Omar did the only sensible thing he could think of, run.

He dashed off the beach as fast as he could. Only moments later, Omar heard the monster smash through the docks behind him. He continued to run, knowing he had to reach the village to warn everyone of what was coming. It turned out that wasn't necessary though. The monster let out a sky shattering roar that announced his present to every living thing within a two miles radius. Every person in the village was alerted to the impending danger. Still, Omar needed to reach the village and get his family out of harm's way. His wife and little girl were no doubt waiting for him there.

Omar could feel the creature closing in on him with every giant step it took. He knew was loosing ground fast. Finally one its footfalls got so close that it knocked Omar off his feet from the impact. Omar rolled into the sand and looked up as a shadow loomed over him. The last thing he saw was the creature's enormous foot coming down and crushing him.

Marcus and the others arrived back in Paris. He had been cleaned up after escaping from the tunnels of the Maginot Forts and given a new uniform as the one he had been wearing was bloodied and soiled. Reports had come in saying that Varan was continuing to retreat back into Germany and there was a sense of jubilation in France. A major crisis had been averted with the monster being repulsed at the border.

Paris was still mostly empty due to the presents of Mothra's cocoon and the military blockade, but the citizens who were still in the city gave Marcus a hero's welcome. While they didn't overlook the efforts and sacrifices of the other fighting men, they saw his desperate act of heroism as the linchpin that finally stopped Varan.

Marcus quickly retreated from the crowds, overwhelmed by the attention. He didn't want to be in the spotlight. He only did what he did because it had to be done. Brock pulled him into a jeep and they went to the forward command post near the Eiffel tower that was monitoring the cocoon. There they found Dr. Jacquier, who gave them the update. As it turned out, the situation with the cocoon had changed very little. The doctor had insured the military hadn't taken any aggressive actions. Brock seemed a little disinterested and left to go to the bathroom. Meanwhile Dr. Jacquier brought Marcus a drink.

"A small thank you for saving Mothra." He said to Marcus when he handed it to him.

"Dr. Jacquier, I've been meaning to ask you something." Marcus took the drink, but set it down. "Did you just make up that story about the cocoon being explosive or is it actually true?" The doctor could tell by Marcus' tone that he was very serious. His recent brush with death had done a lot of to sweep away his subtly. He wanted to know and he didn't want to beat around the bush about it.

"Do you prefer a a subtle lie, or a blatant lie?" Dr. Jacquier answered, caving into Marcus' pressure.

"That's what I thought." Marcus signed.

"Well, now that you know, what are you going to do about it?" Dr. Jacquier asked. "I imagine you'll want to turn me in?"

"I should..." Marcus began.

"But you know what they'll do if they find out." Dr. Jacquier cut in with a smug smile. "And you're like me, certain that would be wrong."

"I don't know what I think." Marcus countered.

"Not an enviable position to be in." Dr. Jacquier smirked. "I imagine that makes your decisions difficult for you. Agree with me or not, I know exactly what I'm doing. I have been certain about all my actions since we found the egg, no regrets."

Just then, a French officer following by four armed soldiers burst into the room. They marched right up to Dr. Jacquier and point their riles at him.

"Dr. Jacquier, you are under arrest for the bombing of the Ambroise Research Center."

"I don't know what you are talking about." Dr. Jacquier replied, unconcerned. "I wasn't even present when the lab exploded. I've been here for days."

"Spare me doctor." The officer spat back at him spitefully. "We have your lab assistant in custody and he's confessed to everything. He planted a bomb in the lab under your orders. Your conspiracy is tantamount to treason. You will come with us now." The officer demanded.

"I suppose the game is up then." Dr. Jacquier stood up, resigning himself to being taken by the soldiers. "No regrets Marcus... no regrets." The soldiers walked him outside. A moment later Brock returned confused.

"What is going on?" Brock asked. "They have arrested Dr. Jacquier...?"

"They figured out that he fabricated they story about the cocoon. He also arranged for an explosion at the research center." Marcus informed him.

"Well, son of a bitch." Brock replied in shock.

With Dr. Jacquier exposed, the French military's leadership called a meeting to discuss what their next steps should be. They decided to proceed with a plan to destroy the cocoon with fire. As it turned out they were willing to risk damaging the Eiffel Tower. However, they couldn't act immediately. It was going to take one day for them to gather together all the necessary equipment that was required, primarily the flame throwers. The operation was set to take place the following day at noon.

Marcus was against the plan, but didn't have a say in the matter. Even his new hero status didn't give him enough pull to do anything useful. If he protested too much he might end up arrested like the doctor. He walked out of the command post flustered, needing to blow off some steam. Marcus resorted to walking the perimeter around the Eiffel tower, trying to think of a way to save the defenseless cocoon. As clever as he was, he didn't have to the power to affect the situation. The men in charge had made up their minds. Marcus leaned on the rail of the metal fence and stewed.

"Comment vs tu?" A soft voice spoke to Marcus, he turned to see a young French women at his side. "Es-tu l'américain de la lignée maginot?" He didn't understand a word she said and had been taken so by surprise he didn't know what to do. "Tu asun baeu unifrome." She came closer and touched his arm.

Marcus was in a near panic and embarrassed. At that moment, he wished Ling was there to translate for him. Unfortunately he was not. Marcus must have looked like a deer in the headlights to the young woman. She waited for an answer for a moment, but when Marcus failed to rely she continued.

"Faire vous parler langue Francaise?" She asked. Marcus felt himself flush and he started to sweat.

"Pardon, il ne fait pas." Brock said as he walked up to them. "Et je crois qu'il est pris, Mais il est flatte." Marcus still didn't understand a word, but whatever Brock said seemed to disappoint her. "Je suis à votre service bien." He continued. Whatever he said didn't seem to land with her because she walked away from the two after rolling her eyes at Brock.

"Brock you speak French?!" Marcus asked flabbergasted by the revelation.

"A little." Brock replied. "When you've been in the service as long as I have you pick up a few things. It's something you apparently need to work on. Because of your little shortcoming, I think you just missed out on a good thing."

"Well... I..." Marcus began to reply, but before he could finish was tackled by another woman.

"Yesh, how is this little chump so attractive to the locals?" Brock grumbled somewhat jealous as Marcus went down in a heap with the girl on top of him. "Need some help again or do you got this?" Brock asked sarcastically.

On the ground, Marcus had recovered enough to see that it was no a stranger that had launched themselves at him, but rather a familiar face. It was Shauna. Marcus was more bewildered by the fact that it was her rather then just some stranger that had tackled him. She only allowed him a moment to look at her before kissing him.

"These French girls are even more aggressive than I thought." Brock smirked.

"I'm not French!" Shauna laughed up at Brock. "I'm Marcus' sweetheart.

"Oh, well that makes sense I guess." Brock balked.

"No, it's true Brock, I know her from back home." Marcus confirmed. "Shauna, what in the devil are you doing here? You're the last person I expected to run into. I mean, I'm happy to see you and all, but how did you get here?"

"Well, it wasn't easy. Getting into the city was a bit of a chore." Shauna replied.

"You snuck in?" Marcus asked.

"Heck no, don't be silly." She assured him. Marcus looked relieved. "I just payed off some of the guards at the road blocks." That statement brought Brock to a full fledged belly laugh.

"You aren't AWOL are you?" Marcus followed up.

"No, no." Shauna laughed. "My term of service is up. I know it's a little crazy, but I just needed to see you. When you said you were in a bad place in one of your letters I knew I needed to come." She explained.

"Wait, so you came all this way just to see me?" Marcus was dumbfounded again. "I don't know what to say."

"The look on your face says it all, that's all I need." She embraced him.

"I just can't believe you are actually here. How did you even find me?" Marcus asked.

"Well, the way you were talking in your letters, I just figured you'd be following the big bug around. Its been parked here for about a week, so I thought you'd be close by if I came to the city and walked the perimeter long enough. I figured I'd find you eventually."

"I'm blown away by the lengths you went to, you're amazing." Marcus nearly teared up. "You came all this way by yourself?"

"Don't be too impressed." She replied. "My family is pretty wealthy. I've been to Paris before on a trip a couple years back. It was just a matter of purchasing a ticket for a flight and using a little deductive reasoning to find you."

"Jeez Marcus, you best never cross this little lady, she's resourceful." Brock laughed. "Do you have a sister by the way?"

"I do!" Shauna exclaimed. "But... she's engaged." Brock looked legitimately disappointed for a second before recovering.

"How long do you plan to stay?" Marcus changed topics. "I appreciate you coming in all, but it's not safe here."

"Well, I had planned to be here for another two nights, but if you don't want me here..." Shauna teased.

"It's not that, it's just I can't exactly leave and there are giant monsters roaming the countryside."

"Well the giant cocoon is not going anywhere tonight." Brock cut in. "Let me talk to the Admiral and I'm sure he'll be glad to grant you one day of leave. It would be a shame to make the lady's trip all for nothing. You should wander the city, see the sights."

Brock was as good as his word. Marcus indeed got his leave, and with Shauna, explored Paris. They toured the the Louvre and visited the Notre-Dame Cathedral and Sacre Coeur Basilica. The architecture of even the most common buildings were beautiful, but the monuments were unbelievable. As evening set in, they wandered the streets and in the dark found out why Paris was called the City of Lights. They came upon a sidewalk cafe that was still open and had a romantic candlelight dinner. Afterwards, they walked along the serene Seine River and sat under the Arc de Triomphe.

When they were done wandering, the pair returned to the hotel near the command post that they had been put up in. It had a great view of Mothra's cocoon on Eiffel Tower. Upon entering their room, they found a note attached to a case of wine. The note was from Brock who relayed that it came from the French President himself as the thank you for their efforts. Marcus and Shauna spent the rest of the evening in their room with the door locked.

At eleven thirty-two Marcus was just getting out of the shower and turned on the radio while he dried off. The radio was tuned into the a news station which was rebroadcasting a report from earlier in the day. The host was describing the sudden appearance of yet another monster in North Africa, which was cutting a swath of destruction through Libya. It had been named Kamerus and was moving eastward along the coast, destroying anything it came across.

'Another one?' Marcus thought bitterly and turned off the radio. He walked to the balcony and just stared out. Shauna came out of the bathroom and noticed Marcus wasn't in the room. She found him standing alone in the cool night air and sensed something was wrong. She came up and wrapped her arms around him and he held her hands in return. They just stood there like that for a time.

A flash of light from the tower brought both of attention to the cocoon. Something was happening to it. Splashes of color flickered from within the silk laden bulbs and the edges of it seemed to pulse with movement. Marcus and Shauna held their breath, knowing they were seeing something special. The top of the cocoon started to rise as a form of a head began to push it's way though gently. The silk started to tear around it and a golden powder poured out of the opening, flooding the area around the tower with it. The head came completely through, revealing two small white antennae and brilliant sapphire compound eyes. The head also had a light brown stripe down the middle. The creature slowly crawled the rest of the way out of the cocoon. Its thorax was brown with splashes of white and its abdomen was striped white and brown. Once its whole body was out it turned itself around and clung tightly onto the empty shell of the cocoon.

From there, it just sat perched. Its wings were crumpled tightly against its body and, little by little, they started to grow. Marcus could see the veins within the wings moving blood throughout their framework, giving them more shape moment by moment. Within minutes, the wings had extended to full size, revealing all the color within them. The primary colors of the wings were orange, yellow, and black arranged in beautiful pattern. The creature moved them ever so slightly to help them harden more quickly. Once they were finally set and ready, Mothra took flight. She was being careful not to flap her wings to hard, just enough stay in the air. She passed directly over the balcony that Marcus and Shauna were standing on and her gold powder trickled down on them. They were both in awe.

"I'm glad I was here to see this with you." Shauna spoke. She now understood the feelings Marcus had about Mothra. Watching her fly by was a powerful visual. She was Majestic in flight.

The golden particles hit Marcus' face. As they did, world seemed to bend around him. He collapsed, falling backwards. Halfway down, he heard a something that was somewhere between the sound of thunder and hitting water. His vision blackened, and before he knew it, was standing on a beach. He didn't recognize where he was, some place he had never been before.

It was night and Marcus looked up towards the sky. There he saw red stars. They lit up one by one until there were five of them total, burning hotly against the black canvas around them. His eyes shifted to the moon, and upon the face of it, he saw flashes of yellow all across it. His attention was then drawn to the water in front of him. He saw his reflection in it and below the water there was a pulse of blue. The pulse made a ripple in the water that seemed to extend into the sky.

There was a rumble next, followed by a large statue that rose from the water in front of him. It looks ancient, like it was thousands of years old. Carved into the stone was the face of a man surrounded by runes. The statue began to crumble. Piece by piece, it fell back into the water and blood rose from where the statue had been, but there was more. A pit opened up in the earth below the water and Marcus could see fire and shadows in it. The shadows were creeping towards the surface.

At that point, Marcus could hear something coming from behind him. Before he knew it, he was picked up off the ground and flying through the air. He rose higher and higher until he was above the clouds. He continued to be carried higher yet, until he was far above even the clouds. Below the clouds, there were flashes of what Marcus assumed were lighting, but they were not.

Suddenly, a section of the clouds rose in front of Marcus. It continued to rise in a solid column, but then it began to branch out at the top, once it had grown to a certain height. When it was done, its form resembled that a great tree, but it wasn't a tree and Marcus knew there was something dangerous about it. Under its fluffy outer exterior, there was a burning light that stung his eyes.

At the base of it, there were shadows. Marcus thought he saw wings flapping, but there was dust and debris so he couldn't make out what they were. His attention was drawn back up to the top of the cloud, which was changing shape. The first thing he could recognize was the shape of an open mouth filled with sharp teeth. As it continued to take form, he could see that it was a head. Once it was fully formed it reminded him of Baragon in its shape, except there were no horns or ears. Whatever it was, he knew that it was big and terrible.

The landscape around the center column started to take shape too. It was like a city that was on fire. Marcus saw a bridge overlooking the metropolis in the distance and felt a sense of dread. A moment later, he heard a roar behind him which made his blood curdle. He began to turn to face the source of it, but was shaken awake before he could see it.

Shauna was desperately shaking Marcus, trying to get him to wake up. She was in tears, having no idea what just happened to him.

_**-I**_ _**wanted to let you readers know a couple of quick things: **_

_**First, I'm going to have to take a few weeks off over the the next month or two. I have a professional license that needs to be renewed and it requires about 20 hours of continuing education before I can do that. It's really going to eat into my free time, which is of course when I write. So the next update is probably going to be a little ways off. **_

_**Sorry about that, but there's just no getting around it. However, if you like the story so far and want to keep tabs on the next update, I'd suggest following the story so you'll get notifications about updates and won't have to keep checking back. **_

_**Second, a special note to Gfan 1. I figure you are disappointed Godzilla was not the mystery monster in this chapter. If you like, I can address when Godzilla will make an actual appearance in the story. If you set up an account on Fanfic I can PM you about it. **_

_**Then again, if other people are interested and just dying to know the answer to that question, I could just put a note at the bottom of the next chapter discussing it. I would of course put a 'BIG SPOILER' note to warn people who'd rather be surprised. If anyone else wants spoilers, let your voice be heard in the review section to let me know what you want to do. **_

**_Third, if you don't know who Kamerus is and want to find out more, check out the Godzilla Wiki. I assure you he is in there._**

**_Thanks for reading!_**


	14. Chapter 14: Kraken and Leviathan

**Chapter 14: Kraken and Leviathan.**

Marcus woke to find Shauna kneeling over him, near panicked.

"Jesus, you were out for over a minute." She said frantically. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Marcus replied, his vision still fuzzy around the edges. His skin felt clammy and his whole body was covered in a cold sweat.

"We need to get you to a hospital to be evaluated." She carefully helped him sit up. "I think you had a seizure and you hit your head pretty good when you fell too."

"No, we can't tell anyone about this." Marcus replied, coming back to his senses. "They arrested Dr. Jacquier because he was under the influence of Mothra. If they suspect I'm under her influence too they're likely to never trust me again. At the very least I'll be shipped back home before you can blink."

"If you are being affected, would that be so bad?" Shauna reasoned.

"I think it's for that very reason I need to stay." Marcus countered. "I've had insights I don't think I would have had on my own, things that have helped the cause. It might be a stretch to call Mothra an ally, but she certainly isn't our enemy."

"If you persist this way, you'll be putting your health at risk." She frowned at him.

"I understand where you are coming from and I care about how you feel, but this is bigger than you or I Shauna. Bad things are coming, and if I ignore what I know, the consequences will be severe." Flashes of Marcus' vision can back to him, giving him a chill. "I couldn't live with myself if I don't try to do something."

"What is coming?" Shauna asked.

"I don't know for sure." Marcus answered. "I can only remember scraps of things from when I was out, but I saw... something. I think it was warning of some kind. I don't know what is going to happen, but I know it will happen soon." The visions in his head were fading fast even as he struggled to remember them. He was forgetting them almost immediately, as if his own mind was trying to tell him they were something he was not meant to see.

In Russia, Akira bounced up and down as the jeep he was in sped away from the soviet camp as the pair of Rodan's continued ravaging it. Vladimir was driving fast and wild, the paleness of his face told Akira he wanted no part of what was going on behind them. Akira's pulse was pounding like a jack rabbit's on on a date. The only one of the three men who seemed unaffected was Major Saito. He remained cold and focused. He helped direct Vladimir back towards the hiding place where the float plane was waiting for them along the coast.

Only a few minutes later, they had put a miles between them and the massacre. They came over a grassy hill and spotted their ticket out of there. The plane was just ahead and they were nearly home free, but then disaster struck. A hail of bullets struck the jeep as it was a mire hundred yards away from the plane. Vladimir was hit in the shoulder and nearly lost control of the vehicle. It spun around as he jerked the wheel. He managed to bring it to a stop without flipping over, but the jeep struck a rock at the last second.

Once they were stopped they spotted the source of the attack. A squad of soviet soldiers were piling out of a patrol truck. Vladimir tried to put the jeep in reverse only to discover that the rock had bent the axle several inches inward. They weren't going to get anywhere quick in the jeep anymore so the three men spilled out of it and ducked behind it and the rocks for safety.

"The tank commander must have alerted their patrols before the Rodans attacked!" Akira shouted to Saito over the sound of soviet gunfire.

The three men regrouped and brought their own arms to bare. They were outnumbered, but the soviet soldiers were only using rifles while they possessed the advantage of machine guns. Major Saito was the first to act. He sprang up and mowed down three Russians trying to work their way around the right flank. Vladimir attacked as well, but was having a tougher time of it with his wounded shoulder. Even so, he also managed to get a kill on the left flank. Akira collected his courage and brought his weapon up, resting it on the jeep and looked for targets in front of him. He found one Russian boldly charging up the middle and made short work of him.

The sudden burst of fire from the two managed to halt the soviet's advance on their position. The other Russian they didn't kill had dropped to the ground for cover. They had surprised the soviet soldiers. It was clear that they hadn't been expecting them to be so well armed, but the advantage of surprise was lost. Now they knew what they were dealing with and would adjust tactics. From then on out, the Russians learned to respect the amount of firepower the Akira and his companions could put out. They wouldn't come charging in again so recklessly.

Although Akira's group had killed five soviets already, they were still outnumbered. Akira figured there were about still ten of them out there. The soviets meanwhile were slowly crawling through the tall grass and re-positioning. They were trying to get to the most ideal firing positions while remaining in cover.

The firefight continued for several minutes. Each side popping up and taking shots at the other. Major Saito gunned down three more and Akira got one more himself during the action. The trouble was they were running out of bullets. The soviets on the other hand seemed to being doing just fine on ammo and were slowly gaining the advantage.

The tide turned when one of the Russians managed to hit Major Saito in the leg. Akira knew then things were going against them and unless something changed they were going to be captured or killed. Major Saito seemed to recognize it too. For the first time, Akira could see him sweating it out in his head, weighing the options.

Their choices were extremely limited. Surrender wasn't an option. Up until a moment ago they could have tried to run for it, but with Saito's fresh leg wound, that was off the table. They were nearly out of ammo, so killing the remaining Russians in the firefight didn't seem likely either. The only thing Saito had left beside his side arm was two grenades. Two grenades against six spread-out Russians was a long shot he couldn't gamble on. The Major finally made a decision and then acted. He took out his side arm, put it into Vladimir's back, and then pulled the trigger, killing him instantly.

Akira meanwhile had be firing at the Russians. He crouched back down after having spent the rest of his machine gun ammo. He saw what Saito had just done and was bewildered by it. His face demanded why of his commander, but the words didn't come. It wouldn't have mattered, Major Saito putted the pin on one of his Grenades and threw it a few yards in front of the jeep into a pile of dirt. He grabbed Akira by the shirt and pulled him in close.

"When it goes off, run for the planes." Saito said sternly to him. Akira nodded and waited.

There was an explosion just a moment later and Akira bolted away from the Jeep, exposing himself to gun fire. He could hear the pops from rifles behind him and felt at least one bullet nearly miss him as it whizzed on by. Behind him, Saito stood up with his pistol and gunned down one of the Russian who was shooting at Akira. When their attention was back on him, Saito began to slump back down behind the jeep for cover, but with his injured leg he wasn't fast enough and he caught a slug in his stomach. It didn't kill him, but it took the fight out of him. Akira was on his own now getting back to the plane.

One of the Russians could see their wasn't anymore resistance coming from the area of the jeep and took off after Akira. The rest of them noted that their comrade was not being fired upon and moved in on the jeep. The first of them on the scene found Vladimir dead and Saito's body face down in a pool of blood. It wasn't clear if he was dead or not.

The soviet soldier kept his rifle trained on Saito's body as he approached, ready to fire at the slightest twitch, but Saito remained motionless. At that point, the Russian officer, along with the remaining soldiers, caught up with him and instructed him to turn over the body while the rest of them covered him. They all closed in with weapons draw. The soldier noticed Akira was holding something in his hand very close to his face, as if he was trying to protect it. He reached in and grabbed Saito's shoulder to pull him over. As he did, he finally saw what Saito had been grasping on to. It turned out to be the other grenade with the pin already pulled out. Saito's hand opened up when he was turned and the safety lever was un-clutched, making the explosive active.

Saito was still clinging to life and purposefully held the weapon to his head. The panicked Russian soldier turned to warn his comrades, who had come in even closer to see for themselves what he was looking at, but it was already too late to save them. The grenade went off and each man was filled with enough shrapnel to seal their fates.

Akira meanwhile was almost to the plane, but the Russian soldier was hot on his heals. The soldier stopped at the top of the hill and took careful aim. He had no time to pull the trigger for the kill shot though. The Japanese soldier that had been left behind with the hurt ankle had heard the firefight going on from the float plane and had been lying in wait with a rifle of his own. He put a bullet into the last soviet soldier's head and limped back to the plane with Akira.

From his hiding spot on the hill, he saw what had befell Major Saito and informed Akira there was no point in trying to go back for him. They needed to escape before they were discovered again. Seeing no other choice, Akira fired up he engine and took off leaving the carnage behind them. In the hours it took them to fly home back, flashes of it all haunted him.

In the days that followed, the Russians found the remains of the skirmish. They couldn't identify Saito's body. His face and upper torso had been blow to bits by the grenade. Vladimir's body however was recovered and they had a file on him. Given the limited evidence they had on hand, it was concluded that the firefight was some type of infiltration operation perpetrated by a White Russian resistant cell.

The Russians never connect the incident to the Rodan's attack. From the Japanese Government's perspective, the mission the entirely a success, causalities not withstanding.

Above the Maginot line, Mothra was flying over the border between France and Germany. Between the recent barrage of gunfire from the French forts and the presence of Varan just days ago, the border guards were still on very high alert. So when Mothra entered German airspace they quickly spotted her and alerted their headquarters. The response from German high command was not unexpected, they immediately scrambled fighters to intercept her.

Less than a half hour later, a force primarily made up of BF 109 fighter craft were converging on Mothra from all directions. She could see the ones in front of her gathering on the horizon like an angry swarm of hornets. She contained to watch them as they advanced on her, growing larger as they moved in closer. It was clear they meant to challenge Mothra and prevent her from advancing any further into their territory. However, she couldn't allow them to stop her.

As the fighters drew near, they began to fan out around so she wouldn't keep track of them all. What the pilots didn't know though was that Mothra's compound eyes had eyes thirty-thousand individual facets, which meant she could see in a nearly three-hundred and sixty arc. She could detect and track every single one of them from her front, sides, and portions of her back simultaneously. Mothra's only blind spot was directly behind her, but considering that her normal cruising speed in flight was just slightly faster than the fighter's maximum speed, they'd have a hard time maintaining any attack from the rear flank for any length of time before she simply outran them.

Mothra had another major thing working to her advantage and that was her reflexes. Her perception of the world was drastically different than a humans. Much like a common dragonfly, she was able to process visual information extremely fast, being able to react to most things within thirty-milliseconds. Humans on the other hand could only process visual stimuli at about one-hundred and ninety milliseconds. Thus, she could see and react much faster than the pilots around her. From Mothra's point of view the planes looked like they were moving in slow motion.

Despite that, the aircraft were closing in on her from all sides, which limited Mothra's options if she wanted to avoid them. As it was, she simply pressed forward and waited for them to make the first move. Two BF 109s were moving in from her right and attempted to make the first attack.

The Japanese had released some information about their experiences fighting against the Rodans to the Germans on the condition that they did not share the knowledge with anyone else, in particular the Russians. As they were both expanding powers, the Germans saw the Soviets as their political, ideological, and military rivals so they were more than happy to uphold their part of the bargain and keep the Russians in the dark.

The German government quickly decided to pass on the information to the head of the Luftwaffe. Knowing that his pilots were about to face off with another flying Kaiju he in turn had them briefed just before getting airborne, giving the flight leaders direct access to the reports about the Japanese air attack on the Rodans. Because of that, the German pilots were careful not to approach Mothra from her rear for fear of being caught up in the same unknown force that had sent so many Japanese aircraft out of control who crossed it.

Unfortunately, the intelligence on the Rodans could hardly be applied to Mothra the same way and that assumption lead to a disastrous start for the Luftwaffe's assault. Approaching Mothra from her flank was in fact the worse possible vector of attack, while striking from behind would have been their safest course.

As the two planes got close to Mothra they got caught up in the massive gusts of air she displaced with the flapping of her wings. Both planes were sent out of control. One of them recovered while the other one fell into a tailspin that it didn't recover from. Neither plane had even got a single shot off. Mothra ignored them and continued forward.

Three more fighter planes dove in from the other side and met with even worse results. Two of the fighters collided with each other when met by the force of wind and their wreckage slammed into the third aircraft just as the pilot had manage to wrestle back control of his plane. The impact sheared one of his wings and he was forced to bail out.

With that, the flight leaders instructed their planes to halt their attacks and stay on standby. Meanwhile Mothra just flew on past them. The German planes regrouped and attempted to pursue her only to discover that she was easily able to outpace their propeller aircraft. She left them safely behind her, crossing the first German line of defense in the sky.

The battle was far from over though. Another cluster of fighters were forming ahead of Mothra and the airmen of the first attack relayed what they had learned in their assault so their comrades would avoid making the same mistakes. They understood that each fighter would only get one good pass at her before she would outpace them and that they needed to avoid her flapping wings.

Mothra looked like a "soft target" to them, so they were certain if they could just get in a few good shots they could at least slow her down. The flight leaders in the second clump of planes began to get their planes into a narrow string formation ahead of Mothra so they could dive in from above and strafe her exposed back.

The first three planes of the formation dove down on Mothra opened up with their machine guns. She saw them coming, but didn't make any effort to evade them. Rather than change course, she allowed them to attack. The planes hammered down, but there was no visible effect on Mothra. She pressed forward losing no speed, evidently bothered by their assault. A second and then a third wave of planes all followed suit getting no better results than the first. Mothra had proven 'not' to be so soft of a target.

This sent the German squadron leaders into the frenzy. They scrambled to come up with another solution while they still could. Mothra by that point had outpaced the second line of fighters, leaving them to trail behind her losing more and more ground.

There was one final group of fighters ahead of Mothra and they were the last thing standing between her and clear German airspace. As before, the pilots from the second group relayed their knowledge. The lead pilot of the third squadron decided they needed to attack Mothra's wings, reasoning they had to be the weakest part of her body.

His planes lined up as the previous flights had and descended on her. Again, Mothra made no effort to avoid them and allowed to them to rain down bullets against her wings. To the pilot's horror, they could actually see their tracers ricocheting off as the hit. What nobody saw were any holes or tears caused by the attack. Mothra's wings had held up strong.

Back in Paris, the city was left in relative peace following Mothra's departure. She had beat her wings soft enough upon her exit to ensure that the buildings below her were left intact. On the other hand, the amount of garbage that had been spread in the streets by gusts of wing were fairly profound. One would assume by the look of things that the entire city had been host to party in the streets.

Clean up efforts had already began, but their greatest challenge would be to remove all of Mothra's silk off of the Eiffel Tower. The French still had the option to burn it off all at once with their flame throwers, but the speediest solution was hardly the safest one, so they instead elected a gradually cut it down with blow torches. Only after it was all down would they set fire to it.

In the United States Embassy, Marcus had returned to duty. By that time, the Japanese had sent a coded message about the radio test being a complete success, proving Marcus' theory. They hadn't mentioned a word about the Rodan's attack on the Russians, but they didn't have to. The news had spread on it own through various sources. Knowledge about the sabotage had been successful kept within select circles of the Japanese Government. Beyond that, only the surviving members of the military who carried out the mission itself knew about it.

Most were pleased with the news of the successful test, but at least one marine was underwhelmed by the news. Particularly in light of what had happened in Russia in the meantime.

"Ok, sure, we can lure them now, but what good does that do us at this point?" Brock asked. "No offense Marcus, it's a wonderful discovery in all, but the Japanese attacked the Rodans with eight-hundred warplanes in the air and failed. Then they attacked them at sea with what... a hundred warships... and failed. The Russians fought them on the ground with an entire army and failed. What good is it to lure them into a trap if we don't possess a weapon that is capable of fighting them? On land, at sea, or in the air they have proven to be deadly. There's no clear weakness."

No one had a good answer for Brock. His point hit home and drained the energy from the room. The only thing anyone could hang their hats on was the fact that the Rodans were a Russian problem for the time being. They could only hope by the time they became someone else's problem that a solution would present itself.

It was at the moment that Lieutenant-Commander Williams asked to talk to Marcus alone for a moment. Marcus agreed, but was nervous. Williams had never gone out of his way to speak with him before. Williams always gave off an air of snootiness around Marcus. Such as it was, he felt like he was about to get a dressing down for his recklessness in the Maginot Forts. Instead there was a certain humility in the Commander's voice when he spoke.

"I wanted to personally thank you for what you did back there in the heat of battle sailor." Williams began. "I don't think any of us would have made it out of there if it wasn't for your quick thinking."

"Sir.. I, thank you sir." Marcus blurted out. "I mean, you're welcome sir." Williams seemed pleased that Marcus was so discombobulated in his response. He smiled for the first time in Marcus' presence.

"I have two children." Williams went on. "When we were in the thick of it, all I could think is that I was never going to see them again." He paused. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I see what the Admiral likes about you. If you didn't know it, he speaks very highly of you." With that, Williams retreated out of the room. He had said what he wanted to say and that was that as far as he was concerned.

Marcus tried to think of something clever to say in return to Williams, but the whole thing had caught him so off guard that he just stood there like an idiot while Williams walked away.

In Russia, things were going from bad to worse. The attacks by the Rodans had not stopped at the military staging camp. After they were done with the camp flew further east and attacked the train stations at the most eastern portion of the Trans-Siberian Railroad. They were likely drawn there by radio signals. The Russians were still frightfully unaware their transmissions would bring the flying monsters down on them. A few local villages also fell victim to the Rodans as their rampage continued through the surrounding countryside.

A day later, the Russians attempted to drive off the Rodans with a massive air assault. They were hoping to pull off something similar to what the Japanese had achieved, but the Russians had a few things working against them. First, they didn't realize the amount of planes the Japanese had lost in that fight. The Japanese hadn't released their causality information to anyone outside of the Japanese government for obvious national security reasons. The Russians were only aware that the Japanese had won from a strategic standpoint, while losing on a tactical level.

The Russians committed four-hundred Yak-1 warplanes to the operation, but quickly realized that the whole thing was a tactical blunder. The assault was not as well coordinated as it could have been, which lead to individual detachments of planes entering the combat zone alone without the support of other air-groups. The first wave was wiped out before the second one even arrived. It was pattern that was repeated with the second. At that point, the commanders at ground control directed the remaining planes to rendezvous in a nearby sector to regroup before proceeding on together.

Again, the Russians suffered for their lack of information. The Rodans were alerted by the mass of radio chattered and were drawn towards the squadrons as they were still in the midst of reorganizing. They tore into the ranks of the soviet planes and downed dozens of them before the pilots even knew what was happening. When it was all over, less than a hundred fighters made it back to base.

The loss of men and material in the East was climbing higher each day. It was so devastating that it started to effect Stalin's war effort in the West. The Rodan's ongoing attacks forced him to divert soldiers and war materials to deal with them that were meant for the campaign in Finland.

The truth was these reinforcements were inexperienced and ill prepared. Stalin knew they stood little chance against the monsters, but even if his men couldn't stop them, he had to at least be seen making an effort to defend his people.

The Rodans attacked at will, leveling town after town, but after three days of terror, the Russians were able to concentrate enough firepower together to make a reasonable stand. Tanks and rocket trucks caught up to the Rodans at a town called Revatograd, which was actively under attack.

The Soviets had finally caught the Rodans on the ground, but it was double edged sword. They had to make the tough choice to attack while Russian civilians were still present as the townspeople were trapped. The Rodans would pick off anyone who tried to break cover and run out into the open. They had the choice between being potentially killed by the shelling of their own military if they remained indoors or the almost certain death of being eaten making a run for it.

The Russian generals at least didn't make them wait long. They quickly decided they need to attack while they had the advantage. They reasoned that the civilians who would be killed in the attack would prefer to die by their hand rather than be consumed by the Rodans.

The rocket trucks moved forward and unleashed all of their fury into the sky. Their projectiles arched up and then began to rain back down onto the Rodans and town alike. The buildings that were hit by the rockets got blown to bits. Almost no structure was left unscathed by the assault. The tanks rolled up and added to the barrage, which only added to the carnage.

The Rodans were less affected by the attack than the town and took to the sky to quickly close the gap on their attackers. Upon reaching them, the Russians lines were once again decimated by the fury of the combined strength of the Rodans. Hardly a machine was left standing when it was over.

However, there was a silver lining. The fight seemed to at least wear out the monsters. When they were satisfied that the Russian assault had been crushed they returned to the sky and retreated back to their nesting ground in the Kamchatka peninsula.

Over the course of four days, the Russians had lost the majority of three armored divisions fighting the Rodans, which equated to nearly a thousand fighting vehicles of various designs and twenty-five thousand men dead or injured. While the Soviets had plenty of manpower to call upon to replace their losses, they however were not an economic powerhouse. It would cost them about fifty-four million dollars in today's money to replace their armor losses alone.

The loss of over three-hundred planes was roughly another fifty-six million dollars stacked on top of an already horrifically costly campaign, which was far from over and would likely to raise the costs even higher.

On the Finish war front Soviet casualties were also mounting. Their losses had reached one-hundred thousand soldiers killed in action and an addition two-hundred thousand wounded. They had also lost over a thousand tanks and every day the Finish position was improving. They were receiving more and more international aid in the form of equipment and volunteers.

The British were openly in talks with the Fins about selling them heavier weapons, which they very much needed to push back the Soviets. The British wished to maintain the status-quo in Europe and the escalating war was becoming more and more disruptive. The Russians were one of the few powers who could possibly be seen as a rival the British Empire, so blocking them from gaining more political power and growing stronger was in their best interest.

Stalin was humbled and embarrassed. The Russians had lost thousands of men and expended two-hundred and thirty-five million dollars for no practical gains in their fight with the Fins and Rodans. Worse, neither fight had an end in sight. He lacked and effective way to combat the Rodans and the Winter War was only to grow more difficult as it persisted.

Russia was politically isolated. As the lone communist power they couldn't get outside support either militarily or economically. The very idea of Socialism was seen as a threat by the monarchies, empires, democracies, and even by fascist dictators of the world. The Russians had no powerful friends to call upon for aid. In fact, the other forms of government would be happy sit back and watch while their new system died in its infancy.

Russia had existed in a near constant state of war since the beginning of The Great War. The February and later October Revolutions, had begun before that conflict had even concluded, and then the Russian Civil War quickly followed the Revolution. During the civil war Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, and Poland were all able to fight their way to independence from mother Russian, weakening her power and prestige. Many other conflicts followed in turn, each one seeming to spawn another.

The near constant state of warfare and general unrest in the country meant that Russia had failed to keep pace with its competitors in terms of industrialization and modernization and both of those things were key in maintaining costly military endeavors. The Russian economy simply was not capable of keeping pace with the hemorrhaging of rubles of both conflicts were causing. Stalin knew if he persisted with both his country's economy would eventual crash under he pressure.

He couldn't very well negotiate with the Rodans, so he begrudgingly requested peace talks with Finland. In Stalin's mind it was just a temporary setback. He calculated that the Rodans would eventually move on out of Russian territory, either by their own accord or after his generals had devised a way to compel them to leave. Afterwards he could resume his invasion and concentrate all his available resources to crush the Fins.

In North Africa, Kamerus had been raiding the coast of Libya for a couple days. Its path of destruction seemed to be leading it eastward towards Egypt. The monster's pattern was to hit a settlement, almost at random, and then retreat back into the the water. Not a lot of rhyme or reason to it. Kamerus just seemed to hit some settlements while bypassing others.

While it's goal wasn't too clear, it did seem to be on course for Egypt and that got the attention of the British. Egypt was a protectorate of the British Empire. The Anglo-Egyptian treaty of 1936 had granted the British the right to station troops in Egypt for the defense of the Suez Canal.

The Suez Canal was a vital link to the British holdings in India and was an important strategic trade route. It provided a more direct route between the North Atlantic and Northern Indian oceans via the Mediterranean and Red seas. The canal reduced the journey distance from the Arabian Sea to London by five-thousand five-hundred miles. access to it meant saving a great deal of time, money and fuel.

It was unclear if the monster was heading to the canal or if it was even capable of doing significant damage to it if it was, but as Suez was invaluable to the British and their Prime minster felt they had to take every precaution in protecting it. The British would also be facing a political nightmare if they didn't move to protect Egypt. They would be hard pressed to justify Egypt's protectorate status otherwise.

The Egyptian army was pretty limited in what it could do to defend itself and is was primarily made up of infantrymen. Such as it was, the British mobilized and landed more troops on Egyptian soil. They also moved in elements of the British fleet to defend the coast.

If Kamerus appeared in Egyptian waters, they were ready for a showdown.

In the port of Taranto, the Italian fleet was preparing to deal with Kamerus in their own way. They couldn't allow the destruction of their warships or the raiding of Libya's coast to go unanswered. The Italian dictator Benito Mussolini was a man of great ambition and his goal was to recreate the glory of the Roman Empire and dominate the Mediterranean, but that dream could not be realized with a giant monster standing in the way.

Mussolini ordered the recall of all available warships in the Italian fleet to resupply and refit before going back out to hunt for the monster. In particular, several ships were being loaded with the newly developed Neptune depth charges to give them an edge if the monster tried to hide from them below the waves. The only catch was there was a limited number of them. Still, they had enough to be able to effectively utilize them if the situation called for it.

Several cruisers and destroyers had already been outfitted with them, while a select few others were still being loaded. In an ideal situation, every destroyer and cruiser in the fleet would be carrying the powerful depth charges, but the fact of the matter was they simply had not manufactured enough of them to do so yet.

Night was falling and the loading process was still ongoing, but by the next morning all the necessary preparations would be made and the fleet would depart on its mission. Most of the sailors were already asleep, but an Italian Captain by the name of Francesco Garibaldi was walking along the harbor's walkway on the docks with his first Officer Giovanni. The two men couldn't sleep, knowing what they would be up against in the coming days gave them a mixture of fear and excitement. They had grown up with tales of sea monsters from books like the Odyssey and now they were to face a real one of their own. To say they never expected to live to see the day would be an understatement.

Captain Garibaldi was overlooking the fleet, watching the refits get done. The impressive battleships lay at anchor on the black night waters. The moon was full and provided just enough light to get a good look at the gathered fleet. Most of the Regia Marina's battleships were present, including the Littorio, Garibaldi's own ship.

It was Garibaldi's love for ships that brought him into the naval service. That, and he had a long family lineage of military service. Italy had been a hot bed for conflict for fifty years during the reunification wars, which forged the various Italian states into one united nation. A member of his family had been involved in each conflict one way or another. Battle was in his blood.

That night in particular, Garibaldi was feeling a little agitated. He had known all three captains of the ships lost recently. Two out of three of them had been in his class at the naval academy and he had not taken their deaths lightly. He was hardly alone in that, the entire fleet was in an uproar about the incident and looking for revenge.

"Captain." Commander Giovanni pulled at Garibaldi's sleeve. "What is that?" He called his attention to a light just outside of the harbor. The light was a pale blue color and coming from under the water.

"Huh, I don't know." Garibaldi replied perplexed. "Never seen anything like that before." The two men walked to get a better look. One of the harbor's patrol craft had noticed the strange light as well and was motoring over to investigate.

The patrol boat came to the spot where the light was emanating from and stopped. The crew looked overboard to see if they could see the source below. As it turned out, the source didn't give them a chance to find out. Something struck out and hit the bottom of the boat. The vessel rose from the water slightly as it was impacted from below. Whatever it was, it attached to the ship's keel and then quickly dragged the whole thing under.

Captain Garibaldi and Commander Giovanni watched as the ship vanished under the waves without a trace. The only thing that remained was the ripple of the water that spread out from it last position, a portion of it cascading into the harbor. It was then that the light under the water flickered and whatever was producing it started moving into the harbor.

If it was a submarine, there were nets in place at the mouth of the harbor that would deny it entry. As the mass of light reached the location of the submarine defenses, it slowed ever so slightly, but did not stop. It powered its way through and began to surface as it entered the sallower waters of the harbor.

At that point, Garibaldi finally got a look at it. The creature breached the surface and he could see that the light was being produced by the creature itself. To him it looked like a giant blue squid. Its body was Bio-luminous. The other notable feature were its piercing, blood red, eyes. The cephalopod was squid-like in many respects, but with one striking difference. It appeared to be using most of its tentacled arms like legs and was walking upright through the shallows of the harbor. As it got closer, Garibaldi could see submarine nets hanging off of its head. The creature had ripped right though them.

The nets fell off as it moved forward. When the creature reached the outskirts of the inner harbor its body stopped glowing. It didn't seem to want to call attention to itself anymore as it got closer to the ships. The initial shock of it wore off and Garibaldi suddenly started to realize the danger to the fleet sitting at anchor. He and commander Giovanni ran for the motor boats that could bring them to their ship to warn everyone.

As they reached the boats, they could hear the general alarm sounding throughout the base. The whole harbor was starting to stir and sailors began to rush into their battle-stations. The monster had however already reached the sister cruisers Gorizia, Zara, and Fiume before any of their crews were able to ready their weapons.

Captain Garibaldi continued to watch the situation unfold while Giovanni drove the motorboat out towards the Littorio. The first thing the monster did was tear Fiume's A-turret off with one of its strong-suction tentacle arms. Then it smashed the chunk of metal back down into the powerful Neptune depth charges that were stored on the aft section of the ship.

The depth charges ignited in an explosion that lit up the night sky. The stern portion of the warship was blown clean off and Fiume began to sink. Garibaldi noted that the monster had been careful to shield its flesh from the fire. It occurred to him that it could have simply used its arms to smash the explosives, but instead it took the extra time rip off a part of the ship first. That meant it knew the depth charges where explosive prior to attacking, and whats-more, that the creature's spongy flesh was vulnerable to it.

Garibaldi continued to observe as the motor boat got closer to his waiting battleship. The Cruiser Zara was destroyed in the meantime in a similar fashion as the Fiume had been. Again, the creature went after the Neptune charges which annihilated the ship carrying them. Garibaldi was surprised by the creatures apparent intelligence. It was essentially an animal that understood the danger of high explosives, and on top of that, it somehow knew before even encountering them for itself first hand. This troubled him deeply.

Commander Giovanni finally brought their tiny boat alongside the massive battleship Littorio and the two men began the climb up the rope ladder hung over the side to get to the main deck. A third explosion from behind told them that the creature had succeeded in destroying the Gorizia as well.

Captain Garibaldi wasted no time getting up to the bridge where his crew were already in the midst of making the warship ready for battle. The whole crew had been roused and were in position. The third officer had just given the order to load the cannons and below, the gun crews were scrambling to to load heavy shells. Garibaldi briefly commended him on doing just the right thing before re-amusing command.

Meanwhile, the monster had made its way to the Battleship Caio Duilio. It was battleship that was older, smaller, and less powerful in comparison to Littorio, but still a potent weapon in her own right. Unfortunately the Duilio's men weren't ready for the fight that had found them. The ships guns had not been loaded or rotated yet and the monster was right on top of them.

The gun crew for Littorio signaled their readiness to Captain Garibaldi. The captain was delighted to hear it. If they acted quickly enough, they might be able to help the crew of the Duilio. The Littorio's nine fifteen-inch naval cannons were all leveled at the monster, who had just taken hold of the Duilio. Garibaldi gave the order to fire and the crew obeyed.

However, the monster seemed to sense the attack coming and pulled the Duilio in front of it, raising it partially out of the water. Most Littorio's shots were on target, but they slammed into Duilio's exposed hull as the monster hid behind it. Several of the fifteen inch shells punctured the Duilio's hull under the waterline, thereby avoiding her protective armor belt. The shells began exploding inside of the Duilio and one of them must have found its way into a powder keg because the battleship exploded in the monster's arms.

The monster was blown backwards into the water from the force of the blast as the two pieces of the Duilio sank into the bay. The monster quickly recovered however. It did not appear to be injured in the explosion and continued on its warpath toward the next battleship in line, the Giulio Cesare. The Cesare was just about ready for it. Her main guns were loaded and moving into position. The monster sensed the danger and used its long arms to grab the bottom of Cesare and pulled at the keel of the hull, tilting the starboard deck forty-five degrees upwards.

The main guns of the Cesare fired, but because of the angle of the ship, the shells shot up harmlessly into the night sky. With its first attack spent, the Cesare was helpless. Captain Garibaldi could do nothing but watch. His own men were still reloading, fighting the clock to get back the main cannons back into the fight. The Littorio's smaller guns, however, were ready. The opened up in a hail of fire at the monster.

The smaller caliber fire did seem to bother the monster, but did not stop it. The Cesare was jammed, bow first, into the nearby docks by the monster. The bottom portion of the hull was torn out, which insured the battleship would never sail on the ocean again. Satisfied with the damage it had done, the monster left the Cesare resting half on the shore half on the water.

The only remaining Neptune depth charges were sitting on the nearby destroyers and the monster grabbed them off the ships using its tentacles. One by one, it began to lob the explosives at the remaining four battleships. The first couple came at the Littorio and all were a near misses. The force of charges hitting the water was enough to set them off and the top deck of the Littorio was showered by water from the resulting explosions.

The second volley came at the Littorio's sister battleship Vittorio Veneto and one of the charges exploded near the base of her hull at the waterline. The blast torn open a hull breach allowing water to pour in. The damage wasn't very extensive though and the damage control teams were able to seal off and contain the flooded sections, saving the ship.

Th Battleship Andrea Doria faced a similar situation when it was hit, though it was a smaller battleship and the hull damage was a little more extensive as the charged landed even closer. Still, the ship was salvageable. The last battleship, Conte di Cavour wasn't so lucky however. The monster's aim seemed to be getting better with each try and the final shots were right on target. Conte di Cavour was hit with three massive explosions. One hit the bridge and destroyed much of the ships superstructure and the second hit just below the armor belt and torn open the bottom of the ship, and the third destroyed the rudder. She began to sink, her surviving crew spilling over the side.

The situation seemed desperate for the Italian fleet, six warships had been destroyed and two more heavily damaged. But there was about to be a turn in fortunes. The monster had expended the available explosives near to it and was now in the shallows with no cover to escape. The Littorio's main guns were also ready to fire again, as were the Vittorio's.

Both ships unloaded their main armaments at the monster, who was near helpless against them. It dodged as best it could, but it was hopelessly exposed. In addition to the battleships firing at it, the Cruisers Trento, Boizano, and Trieste were also firing at it from from the next bay over. It was caught in a crossfire.

Captain Garibaldi saw one of his ship's fifteen inch rounds directly hit the monster's bulbous head. The monster's entire body shuttered from the impact and the resulting explosion tore out a large hunk of its flesh. The monster was taking more and more significant hits as more ships joined the attack. Finally the monster decided that it had enough and began to retreat into deeper water. As it did, fire from the remaining warships punished its body, blowing more and more pieces off of it. Bloodied and beaten it finally slipped beneath the waves and escaped the onslaught of fire.

In Germany, Mothra had long put the planes of the Luftwaffe behind her and was continuing further and further into the Third Reich's airspace. Air-defense flak cannons had tried to take aim at her here and there along the way, but whenever they did, Mothra simply sped up. The guns on the ground could not keep trained on her for long before she was out of their range. They were designed to shoot down slower propeller aircraft. Nothing they tried deterred her.

Mothra had been flying for over an hour when her excellent vision finally picked up on what she was looking for. Below there was a trail of disturbed fields and snapped trees. As soon as she spotted the trail, Mothra changed course and began to follow it. She flew for miles until she was on the outskirts of a city. There were signs of a battle below. The ground was pot-marked with the aftermath of explosions and the wreckage of fighting vehicles.

As it turned out,the city Mothra had arrived at was the German capitol of Berlin and the wreckage she had found was the German army's last ditch defense line to prevent Varan's advance into the city. They had clearly failed and the monster was already cutting a path of destruction in the cityscape.

Mothra arrived perhaps a twenty minutes after the attack had begun. Most of the city was still intact and the German military was still firing on Varan inside the city. The German's had Varan more or less boxed into one area. German command had the foresight to place heavy cannons at certain intersections in the city so that Varan would have to endure heavy cannon fire to the face if he wanted to get pass them. The blockade of cannons had stopped Varan from advancing any further forward, but had also forced him towards the Reichstag building in an attempt to get around them.

As Varan advanced towards the German's seat of Government, Mothra passed above him. She flew over a building near his right shoulder. As her shadow loomed over him, he stopped dead in his tracks and took notice. Mothra's sudden appearance had caught him off guard. All he could do is watch her from below.

Mothra meanwhile banked gracefully to her left after passing Varan and then rounded on him coming face to face with him from the safety of several hundred feet up. As she hovered above, her mouth opened and squeaked down to him. Varan responded by roaring back up at her angrily. He used his tail to smash a building to his left down in an obvious threat display.

Mothra seemed unimpressed with the move and continued to squeak at him. Varan responded by thrashing his tail a second time and leveling the building to his right. Whatever Mothra's initial aim had been, she appeared to grow impatient and immediately attacked Varan. She began to flap her wings hard and released a yellow/gold powder.

As it floated down towards Varan, he instantly knew he wanted no part of it. He retreat backwards and then ducked behind a building, getting out of the immediate line of fire. Mothra ceased using her powder and advanced to pursue Varan, but when she approached the building he was hiding behind he suddenly lunged up at her.

Varan didn't achieve enough height to tackle Mothra head on, but he did get close enough to allow the spines on his back to graze one of Mothra's wings. Following his attack, Varan crashed back down to the ground, collapsing another building under him. Once he recovered he looked up to see the damage he had done. To his shock, Mothra was still airborne and stable. He had expected his attack would cleave her left wing right off and that he'd be seeing her tumbling to the ground. Instead, Mothra was right above him and he noted only a scratch where his spikes had made contact.

Panicked by the ineffectiveness of his attack and Mothra's close proximity, Varan used his tail to swipe up at her in an effort to gain a little distance. Mothra backed off to avoid the attack, but his tail never had too much of a chance at landing anyway. Varan meanwhile used the time his feint had bought him to come up with a new method of attack. He quickly secreted some of his poison and let a portion of it build up on the tip of his tail. Once he felt like he had enough, he flicked it in Mothra's direction, sending it flying up at her. Varan had gotten lucky and it was heading right for her face.

Unfortunately for Varan, Mothra saw it coming and used her quick reflexes to maneuver out of the way. The clump of goo arched up past her and then landed somewhere in the city behind Mothra. Varan tried to follow up my using a building as a spring board to crash into Mothra. If he could just touch her he could turn the fight around.

Seeming to understand the threat, Mothra used her powerful wings to beat down at Varan as here came up. The force of wind she produced sent Varan crashing back down and rolling through the streets. Mothra then pressed in close and continued to beat her wings aggressively. Varan dug in his claws to maintain his position, but the hurricane level winds Mothra was producing was blowing anything not make of concrete away. Cars went flying into buildings, park benches took flight, and Varan's defensive toxin peeled right off of his skin. Most of it splattered onto the building behind him.

With Varan's slime gone, Mothra eased up on her attack. The hard flapping took a lot of energy and she could see Varan still had a lot of fight in him. In fact, the second the wind died down Varan charged forward and lunged onto a building close to Mothra. He swatted at her with his sharp front claws. Mothra was again able to react just in time to avoid the attack, and in turn, beat Varan with her gigantic wings.

The building Varan had jumped on had barely been able able to hold his weight to begin with, but the added pressure of the battle taking place on it was finally too much. It buckled and sent Varan once again to the ground.

Varan seemed to understand how precarious his situation was becoming. Mothra was able to react to his attacks faster than he had been expecting and she seemed to have and answer for everything he had throw at her so far. He had one last trick that might turn the tide of battle in his favor. He found a suitable spot for what he had in mind and then ducked down behind another building, waiting for Mothra to approach. Once she had, Varan sprung his trap.

He jumped onto another building to gain a little height and then jumped a second time, extending the flaps between his arms and legs. As he became airborne, he tried to steer himself towards Mothra only to find that she was already coming towards him. Mothra had much great ability to control her flight and was able to jink out of Varan's flight path so that she came up and under him in midair.

Mothra used her head and rammed into Varan's expose underbelly, knocking the wind out of him. The force of the collision knocked Varan off course and out of the sky like a rock. Varan landed hard on his back stunned. Mothra gave him no time to recover this time. She was on top of him within seconds. Her poisonous powder drifted down on Varan's body. He realized what was happening and began to kick his legs in an attempt to flip himself back over. However, his spines however were stuck in the ground where he had landed and prevented him from easily righting himself.

Trapped and having nowhere to go, the powder clung onto Varan and within seconds his thrashing began to weaken, then stop. Varan was paralyzed by Mothra's poison and the fight was over. With her opponent subdued, Mothra came down and latched onto his tail. In an impressive feat of strength, her tiny little legs clung on to Varan's body as she lifted him off the ground and began to carry him out of the city.

Mothra continued to carry Varan north for hours until she had come to the Atlantic Ocean. Once there, she dropped the still unconscious Varan in the water below. and just like that his rampage through Germany was over.

Akira lay in his bed staring up at the bottom of the bunk above him. He had just arrived back on the Akagi following his mission to Russia. While the mission had been a success, he did not feel good about it. The memories of it would likely haunt him for the rest of his life. Vladimir had been killed, Saito had been killed, he had almost been killed himself, and for what?

It all seemed unnecessary. The way Akira saw it, the Russians never had the slightest chance of winning against the Rodans. So, in his mind, they didn't need to help it along. The reports coming out of Russia painted a pretty good picture of what was happening as a result. Villages burning and thousands upon thousands dead. Deaths he was at least in part responsible for.

The worst part of it was Akira wasn't allowed to talk about it. He couldn't vent any the pressure of anger or guilt that was building up in his chest. He could only sit in his bunk and stew about it. Replaying the mission over and over again in his mind, fixated on it.

The Japanese fleet was setting back out for open water for exercises. While they had taken a beating during their own fight against the Rodans, they still arguably had the strongest Navy in the pacific. However, that was only because the American fleet was divided up between two oceans, otherwise they would claim that honor. Such as it was, they needed to maintain a state of readiness.

They had been out for two days already and on the first the fleet had run across something very troubling. Something that could not easily be explained. They had found a small Japanese coast guard patrol craft drifting in the open water. Typically a ship of its size usually carried a crew of twelve, but only one man was found aboard and he was in sorry shape. He was dead, but not only that, but he appeared to be mutilated. His flesh was partially fused to the metal railing he was found clinging onto. The rest of the crew was missing.

The ship seemed otherwise undamaged, so it wasn't clear why the rest of the crew would choose to abandon ship. Just as puzzling was the mystery of what killed the man left behind. He smelled like he had been cooked right there on the deck and his hand and face were blackened and burnt where they had made contact with the steel. He was so badly burnt that he almost had no features left, and let the area around him showed no sides of obvious sign of damage from a fire.

The sailor's body was pried off of the railing, leave chunks of flesh behind, and later burned at sea. The incident sent a chill through the crews of the fleet as the eerie story spread. Everyone was a little edgy ever since. Most of the men had seen death by this point, but it was the mystery; the fear of not knowing what happened, that made it so hard to dismiss and move on.

One of Akira's bunk-mates, Takeo, returned from playing cards with his buddies. Akira didn't know him well and mostly ignored him, but even so, could sense the young sailor was unsettled. He removed his shoes and socks prepared to climb into his bunk to rest for a while. However, before he could, there was a shuttered throughout the ship. It was enough to get Akira's attention. He sat up and looked over to Takeo who looked around him, clearly not sure what was going on. Next, they heard the metal hull of the ship creaking. Takeo took a step back and Akira noted a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. Both of them knew something was awfully wrong.

"What is that?" Takeo asked Akira with fear in his voice.

Akira didn't get a chance to answer. Before he knew it, Takeo's hair was standing on end and only a second later his muscles were seizing up, flexing uncontrollably. The muscle spasms were intense and Takeo tried to scream, but only made a gurgling sound. Akira could see arch of electricity jump from the top part of Takeo's teeth to the bottom. Takeo's feet were cooking against metal plating on the floor and Akira could smell burnt flesh which made his stomach turn as he watched.

It was all over in seconds. Takeo fell to the floor and was instantly dead. Akira sat there in shock, processing it. He didn't know what to do. He was shoe-less himself and didn't dare stand up on the metal floor after what he had seen. He didn't understand what was happening. Before he knew it, the entire ship shook and was tilted off kilter. Akira almost spilled out of his bunk onto the floor. After that, he knew he couldn't very well stay where he was. His shoes were under his bunk and rather than step onto the floor to get them, he hung himself upside-down to retrieve them.

Akira grabbed two pairs of socks and put both of them on just to further insulate himself before lacing up his boots tightly. The noise, rumblings, and rocking throughout the ship continued in the meantime. Akira carefully put one of his boots on the floor. Once it had been there for a second without incident he began to make his was out of the bunk-room and into the hallway.

Once there, he could hear the shouting of men throughout the corridor. The alarm on the bridge had been triggered as well, adding to the already chaotic situation. As Akira made his way out of the crew quarter section of the ship, he saw other men who had been killed much like Takeo had been. Other sailors were uselessly trying to help them, but any man who had been affected was far beyond help by that point. Akira moved on.

The shipped rocked as he continued on and Akira was careful not to be throw off balance. If he was forced to reach out with his bare hands and touch either side of the metal walls of the corridor at the wrong moment, it might be the last thing he ever did. He was right to skittish, only a moment later another jolt of electricity shot throughout the whole ship and a few more sailors who had not figured out what Akira had were caught exposed to it. The smell of burning flesh was filling up the entire area, along with the honorific shrieks of men who were seeing the effects play out first hand. Akira himself was trying his best to ignore it. He needed to stay focused if he was going to get out alive.

Finally, he reached the flight deck. Most of the men there were still alive, but confused about what was going on. The ship continued to rock, which kept everyone off balance. Worse, the rocking had only increased in intensity, which was causing planes and bombs to move around in their bays in the hanger, putting the men inside at risk.

The shifting around paused for a moment and Akira could finally get his bearings again. But no sooner had the ship come to a stop than something came crashing through the hull, puncturing right into the flight deck. And it wasn't just one thing, there were multiple areas of breaches through steel frame all at once in what seemed like a well-coordinated assault.

The shock of it took Akira off guard, but it only took him only a moment to realize what had happened. The things poking through the breaches were sharp mounds of discolored ivory. Taken as a whole, the pattern was unmistakable. Something huge had bitten into the ship and its teeth had penetrating the armored plating of the hull.

That realization was horrible enough on its own, but it was about to get worse. Some of the teeth had sunk in under the waterline of the ship, and because of that, seawater began to leak in around their edges. Akira had a moment of awful clarity and could see what was going to happen next. His legs started moving on instinct, taking him to a stairwell across the deck that would take him up.

Sure enough, the teeth soon retracted out of the ship and water rapidly poured in through the punctures. It flooded in so quickly that several men closest to it were instantly swept up. The rest tried to retreat to escape as Akira had.

Akira meanwhile, had just reached the stairwell himself. He got up about six steps before the first cascade of water reached the bottom. Several members of the flight crew reached the stairs a moment later, but were already too late. A third shock-wave of electricity hit the ship and they were still standing in ankle high water when it surged through them.

Akira ran into a major problem upon reaching the top of the stairwell. As per regulations, the watertight steel bulkhead door had been sealed when the alarm had gone off for general quarters. Akira could easily open it, as the latch was on his side of the door, but he'd have to do so with his bare hands. If there happened to be another electrical attack while he was doing it, he'd be a goner. as he stood there thinking it over, he could hear the buckling of the ship's hull. Water continued to build in the stairwell below him, slowly but surely making its way up to him. He was trapped.

Seeing no other choice left, Akira carefully touched the metal wheel that would release the seal with the tip of his finger. Once he knew the door was not presently electrified, he went to work quickly cranked the wheel until there was a clank indicating the door could be opened. He pushed it open and barreled through until he was clear of it. He went a little too hard though and ended up falling forward on onto wood planking of flight deck. Akira popped up as quickly as he could, scared for his life. In his agitated, fight or flight state, forgot that wood does not conduct electricity very well.

Akira got to his feet to find the flight deck under siege. A huge monster had wrapped itself around the hull of the ship in several loops like a snake trying to strangle a victim. It appeared to be succeeding. The Akagi was was listing and riding low in the water. Between the seawater she had taken on and the added weight of the monster the ship was going to sink any minute.

'Is this happening because of our sins?' Akira asked himself, only yards away from the massive beast.

From what Akira could see, the monster had dull greenish-blue scales that ran the entire length of its body. It could be described as snake-like, save but a few notable features. First, it had a yellow strip of what appeared to be hair running along its back. Second, it had tiny arms and legs that it was using to keep a tight hold on the ship. Third, it had a pair of horns on either side of its head, two long whiskers, and a mouth full of teeth in place of simple fangs. In short, it had the look of an Asian dragon.

Akira didn't have time to study it though. It was already clear that the Akagi was doomed. The carrier shifted again as the monster struggled to crush it. The creature roared towards the sky and the atmosphere around Akira seemed to change. Strains of electricity jumped between the hairs on the monster's back as they stood on end. The metal frame of the ship absorbed the jolt, while the wood Akira stood on was relatively safe.

The ship seemed to slip further down and the remaining aircraft on the top deck slide overboard. Akira considered abandoning ship by jumping directly into water, but realized all too well he would die in the water just as quickly the next time the monster used an electric attack. It was then that Akira spotted a life boat that was being readied by another surviving sailor. He rushed over and helped the man make the final preparations to lower it down. They did have one issue though. Ordinarily the life boats had to be lowered down by someone who was still on the ship.

As the situation stood, there was only the two of them and neither would want to stay behind to lower the other. But Akira's companion provided a solution. He had foreseen the obstacle some time ago and while Akira had been trying to escape from below decks, he had fetched a sword belonging to one of the officers.

The sailor unsheathed it while Akira grabbed the sides of the boat to hang on for dear life. With one good swing of the exquisite blade, the two men had a wild ride down to the water. Luckily for the two of them, the drop wasn't nearly as far as it should have been. The Akagi was riding low in the water, so the impact didn't break any bones, though it was still rough.

Since Akira's companion was standing when the trip down had begun, he actually spilled over the side when they landed. Akira was quick to grab him and pull him back in. The boat tipped a little, threatening to spill both men back into the water, but Akira managed to keep his balance. From there, they grabbed the boat's paddles and got as much distance from the Akagi and the monster as possible. The whole time they could see their former home sink foot by foot under the water until it was gone.

After the Carrier's fate had been sealed the monster released it and surfaced to look for another target. Akira could only hope that he and his new friend were too small to bother with.

_If any of you happen to be following this story on T.K. for the pictures, which I do recommend, I'll be posting it sometime later. I still have to do all the miniature work, take pictures, edit them, etc... etc... Point is, it entails a lot of effort, so it may or may not make it up today._


	15. Chapter 15: Battle in the Dunes

**Chapter 15: Battle in the Dunes.**

As the Akagi sank, Akira and his newfound companion Shiro did their best to get some distance between them and the monster that had attacked their ship. The two men rowed as quickly as they could, never taking their eyes off the sea dragon. The monster slipped beneath was waves and disappeared.

Akira instinctively stopped rowing and had his partner cease as well to avoid drawing any attention to themselves. Several terrible moments passed as they waited to see what would happen next. Akira could not shake the feeling that the monster was right below them just waiting to strike again. The men bobbed up and down helplessly, having no better recourse.

There happened to be a destroyer nearby and Shiro silently nudged Akira's arm, indicating that they should try to make their way over to it. Akira was uncertain though. It was possible that the monster was satisfied with the destruction it had caused and was already withdrawing beneath the surface, but it could also...

At that point, there was no way to know for sure. Long term, Akira knew they would have to be picked up by one of the other warships or he and his newfound friend would not last alone without supplies of any kind on the open water. They were too far away from land to get anywhere on their own. However, Akira knew it was not worth the risk of moving at that particular moment.

The wisdom in Akira's decision was illustrated a moment after when the destroyer they had been eyeing was violently lifted out of the water. The warship was just small enough for the monster to balance in the air as it held it high above the waterline with its jaws. The sea dragon began to lose its balance as more of its snake thin body rose further out of the water. The destroyer's weight finally became too much, and the monster began to tilt. Little by little momentum built up until both the ship and the monster attached to it came crashing down into the water.

The bow of the destroyer stabbed into the water like a knife. The monster let go ship which capsized as water poured into the hull breaches that had been torn into the ship during the attack. The impact on the surface sent a rippling wave rolling towards Akira's small lifeboat. There wasn't anything they could do to avoid it.

"_**HANG ON!**_" Akira shouted to Shiro as he gripped the sizes of the boat.

The wave passed under them, nearly turning them over, but luckily, they managed to stay right-side up. The wave pushed further away from the monster, which was a fact that did not bother Akira too much. The boat was left spinning in lazy circles. As it was, Akira spotted a squadron of destroyers and a cruiser positioning themselves to attack the monster. Trouble was that their lifeboat was between the warships and the monster.

The destroyers began to fire their five-inch main batteries. The first volley was all over the place. Some shells overestimating, some near misses on the monster and a few falling close to the lifeboat. One came close enough to send a jet of water onto Akira and Shiro.

The destroyers also opened up with their anti-aircraft guns, which sent streams of bullets just a few meters above their heads. Akira heard them whizzing by and could see tracer rounds. It was too close for comfort. The two men had to take cover, laying as flat as they could in the boat. Akira knew it wouldn't save them though. If one of the powerful AA guns fired too wildly and one of the rounds accidently hit them, their boat would be torn to shreds and them along with it.

Indeed, a string of one-inch shells did come close, hitting the water about ten yards away. Akira popped his head up just in time to see it. At that point, the destroyers also deployed their most potent weapons, launching a spread of twelve torpedoes at the monster. The torpedoes rushed forward in the water, closing in quickly on their target.

Akira nearly panicked as he realized the path of one of the torpedoes was going to take it right at them. He could see the wakes in the water left behind as the torpedoes jetted along. There wasn't much time, Akira roused Shiro. They attempted to get out of the way, but it was too late. The torpedoes were closing too fast for them to move.

However, there was something Akira had not calculated. The torpedo was traveling along under the water about 3 meters below the surface. As it reached the lifeboat, it safely passed below them. The draft of the small wooden craft was far too swallow for the torpedo to impact it, and as a result, the boat was only slight disturbed by its passing.

Akira breathed a sigh of relief. If he had known a little more about torpedoes, he might have known there was nothing to be worried about from the beginning. However, he had spent most of his time as a fighter pilot on land, so he wasn't very knowledgeable about naval torpedoes.

The feeling of relief was sort lived as his attention shifted back to the main threat, the monster attacking the fleet. The torpedoes continued to close in on it, which hadn't gone unnoticed. If the captains had launched their torpedoes first, they might have been able to surprise the monster, but since they had already draw it's attention with their guns, it saw the jets of water coming at it and correctly judged they were a threat.

The monster glided through the water more gracefully than Akira would have thought possible for something its size. It managed to get its whole long body out of the path of the torpedoes and began to make its way towards the attacking destroyers. The monster didn't pass very close to Akira's boat since it had steered itself around the clump of torpedoes, but it still caused a large enough wake to send the tiny boat bobbing up and down again and drifting away.

When the monster reached the destroyers, it bit into the first one, lifting it clean out of the water and then smashed it against the hull of the second, damaging both ships. then he tossed the destroyer in his mouth about a hundred yards in the direction of Akira. Time slowed down as Akira saw the hulk of the ship drifting closer and closer to them. He was frozen with fear.

The warship ended up landing about twenty yards to their starboard and the impact was finally enough to send Akira and Shiro spilling out of their own boat.

Akira popped back up to the surface and coughed up some sea water he had nearly inhaled. He looked around to try to locate the boat and Shiro. He saw that was destroyer was severely damaged, but still afloat. He did not see any crew and assumed most of them had either been killed or injured during their unplanned flight. It was taking on water and didn't seem like a good option.

Akira then spotted Shiro on the water. He appeared to be injured. Akira swam out to him and grabbed him around the torso to help him keep his head above water. From there he was able to find the boat, it was a few more yards close to the monster. Seeing no better option Akira began to slowly make his was towards it with Shiro.

Akira did his best, encouraging Shiro to kick as much has he could. He had not forgotten the monster's electric attack. If he used it while they were in the water, they would be done fore. Akira became fixated on the thought, his eyes darted back to the monster while it attacked and the lifeboat, whose name took on a new level of meaning. Everything depended on him getting back to it in time.

Luckily for Akira, the ongoing battle off in the near distance was sending wave after wave their direction, which was pushing the boat closer to him, narrowing the gap. Finally, he reached the boat and pushed Shiro back in. By that point, the monster had coiled itself around the cruiser that had been leading the destroyer group. The great serpent was trying to smash a third destroyer with its tail. The destroyer however was just out of reach and managed to fire off a shot with its main turret that hit the monster in the face, which gave it a moment of pause.

Akira got a sense of something bad about to happen as the monster hissed in anger. He tried to pull himself back into the boat but was near exhausted from the swim and helping Shiro. He continued to watch the monster as he struggled, feeling time was running out. The upper half of his body was over the side, but he had to be careful not to tip the boat all the way over.

Finally, the monster employed his electrical attack. The hair on its back stood on end which signaled the discharge. The cruiser it was wrapped around and the destroyer right next to it lit up as surges of electricity danced along the hulls. Akira's legs were still in the water and he shuttered anticipating his imminent death. Akira's heart stopped as he stared forward blankly. A funny thing though, the electricity never reached him.

'Why am I not dead?' Akira thought to himself, almost numbly. After a moment of watching blankly, he decided the why did not matter. He needed to get into the boat and take no chances of a second miracle should the monster attack a second time.

From there, the battle pressed on. It did not go well for the Japanese fleet. The monster was fast in the water and very evasive. It was able to avoid most attacks entirely and hearty enough to shrug off the ones that it did not. The monster sunk several more ships before it retreated. It only seemed to do so because it was getting fatigued from its physical attacks and using its electric attack.

In Paris, Marcus was sitting in HQ, keeping an ear out for reports about Mothra. They were having a hard time keeping track of her. Given that there were lots of gaps in their radar net, she had plenty of blind spots to slip into. There was simply too much airspace, particularly over the ocean, without any radar coverage whatsoever.

Such as it was, the German High Command sent out long range search planes and ships of the Kriegsmarine to search for any signs of either Mothra or Varan. It turned out they were unable to find a trace of either.

Not knowing the whereabouts of the giant insect made of lot of people in high positions nervous. It led to Britain, France, and Germany all hastily making plans to expand their radar networks to fill in the gaps in coverage. However, it would be weeks before all the new emplacements could be built and that gave Mothra free reign in areas without them. No one was certain if she could detect radar waves like the Rodans could. Her behavior thus far was certainly less predictable.

For one, it was unclear why she chose to engage Varan in combat. Some footage of their battle in Berlin, taken by a French spy, had arrived in Paris for them to study. The quality was not particularly good though. It had been shot from a position outside the city and only showed portions of the battle. It did however show the end when Mothra lifted off carrying Varan away.

Many of the French officers dismissed Mothra's actions as simply attacking a rival monster and disposing of it. Marcus however noted that Varan wasn't actually killed, but rather he was still alive when Mothra carried him off. Marcus also pointed out Varan would not have drowned when he was dumped into the ocean. Though he was stunned at the time and not able to move, he however was still an amphibian and capable of breathing underwater. So Mothra's motivation for the battle could not have been as simple as to kill Varan.

Marcus knew in his heart that Mothra had a virtuous reason behind her actions, but it was going to be hard to convince everyone else around him that. He did not bother to try; he couldn't be perceived as trying to protect Mothra or he'd arouse suspicion to his own motivations. He would just have to point out the facts where he could and let them draw their own conclusions.

With Mothra out of French airspace and no other official duties pressing them, Admiral Nimitz gave his men the liberty to do as they wished for the rest of the day. Marcus choose to spend it with Shana. The two of them had already agreed that it would be safer for her to return to the States the next day, so they made the most of their time. They had previously seen most of the sights, save one. Their earlier tour of the city had excluded the Eiffel Tower because up until recently it had been covered in Mothra's silk.

However, French engineers had just finished clearing the last of it off. Though it was technically not open to the public yet, Marcus was able to pull some strings and attain a special pass as a military observer that would allow him to go up to the top. He took full advantage of it and invited Shauna to meet him there.

As Marcus walked from HQ to the tower, he came across a French Jewelry store. He only had one thing on his mind at that point: a certain type of proposition to his fair lady. Could there be a more perfect place to propose marriage to a lady? Full of excitement, he proceeded inside.

However, as Marcus looked over the goods, he quickly realized how hair-brained his plan was. Even the most modestly priced engagement rings the store had on hand were far... beyond the money he had on hand. Just like that, his impulsive plans for proposal were shot. However, Marcus still wanted to make some type of romantic gesture and quickly came up with a backup plan. He found a more modestly priced love knot necklace that was still quite striking. Marcus had to spend nearly everything he had to get it, but he made the purchase and hurried to meet up with Shauna.

Even walking briskly, and briefly running when he thought no one was watching him, Marcus was still five minutes late to his rendezvous thanks to his jewelry store excursion and Shauna gave him sharp glance when she spotted him coming. He gave her an apologetic half smile and her irritation melted away to his sheepish charms. She took his arm and they proceed towards the stairs that would take them to the elevators to get to the top floor of the tower.

As they began their climb, Marcus began to get nervous. They got higher with every step and he became acutely aware that wind that was building more and more in the open air of the tower. Although his fear of heights had lessened with his flying experiences, this was a quite different type of experience.

Because he was with Shauna, Marcus tried his best to hide his fear. He hoped that he would simply get used to the heights the longer they were up there, but instead it only grew worse as they went along. His anxiety subsided only for a moment after the door had closed when they got on the elevator that would take them to the top platform, but it quickly returned when the lift shuttered and started taking them up.

Little by little the car rose higher and higher. Marcus could feel his heart begin to pound in his chest. His breathing became less rhythmic as he tried to gain control himself. The little clanks of the mechanisms moving the elevator as it rose were starting to unnerve him. It helped that they were not in the open wind anymore, but Marcus knew that would change the moment they hit the top and the doors opened again.

Of course, after some time had passed, the doors parted as they arrived at the top and Marcus' anxiety about heights reached an all-time high. His knees felt like jelly and every time the wind hit him, he felt like he was going to tumble right over. Luckily for him Shauna had already walked out and she wasn't paying attention to him. She had immediately run over to the side of platform and was looking over the landscape of Paris. Seeing her so close to the edge made Marcus feel even worse and he grabbed onto the metal frame of the tower next to the elevator for support. His breathing was quick and shallow, and he felt himself beginning to panic.

It was finally beginning to become too much for Marcus. He was literally starting to shake as his muscles tensed up and was getting less steady on his feet. He cursed to himself. He wanted with all his being to enjoy the moment with Shauna, but he just couldn't do it. He was less of a man than he thought he was. Though it shamed him, the only thing he wanted to do at that moment was get off the tower. He even considered getting back on the elevator before Shauna could see him and leave her up there by herself. His plan of a perfect moment with her at the top of the most romantic city on earth was backfiring spectacularly, and whatsmore, there was not much he could do about it. He was barely holding himself together, fear overtaking him.

It was at that moment of weakness that Shauna finally noticed that Marcus had not joined her at the edge of the gallery and looked back to see him in his sad state. She was confused for a moment and didn't understand what was wrong with him, but soon she realized why he was clinging to the tower so far away from edge. She came back to him and took his hand to help steady him. His hand was cold, clammy, and even a little sweaty, but she held onto it just the same.

"Shall we head back down?" She asked.

Marcus couldn't bring himself to answer verbally. He was worried his voice mind crack if he opened his mouth and he was already ashamed of himself as it was, so he just nodded. Fortunately, the elevator was still on the top floor, so the doors opened immediately when Shauna pushed the button and they boarded the car. The doors closed again, and Marcus closed his eyes trying to regain his composure.

Shauna was blissfully quiet, seeming to understand that talking to him would not make him feel better at that moment. Perhaps it was her background as a nurse, but she sensed it was something he had to come to on his own terms. Marcus meanwhile could feel the elevator going back down under them. As it descended, he felt himself begin to calm down. He knew each passing second was getting them closer to the ground and that was comforting. It gave him back a small sense of control over the situation.

The elevator arrived at the lower platform and they exited the car. Marcus was not back to his normal self yet, but well on his way back to recovering. Shauna brought him to a bench situated in the middle of the platform. She figured he'd need to rest and get his legs firmly back under him before trying to make it down the stairs to the bottom. Shauna finally broke the silence as they sat there.

"So you've faced down giant monsters and being a couple extra feet in the air bothers you?" She smiled, trying to be funny and lighten the mood.

"It was more than just a few." Marcus noted a little annoyed. He took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly feeling much better. "I wanted to give this to you at the top, but that clearly didn't work out." He handed her the jewelry box. Her eyes lit up as she examined it. Then she unwrapped the bow on the outside and began to open it. "It isn't much..." He began to say.

"Oh Marcus, this is very thoughtful of you." Shauna cut him off, admiring the love knot inside. "I love it. Help me put it on."

"Sure." Marcus stepped around behind her. She lifted her hair away from the back of her neck and he secured the clasp. "There, that should do it."

"Let's have a looksee!" Shauna grabbed his hand and lead him over to a window so she would see her reflection. "Does it suit me?" She asked.

"Why yes, I believe it does." Marcus answered. The pendant of the necklace ended up situated in just the right place aesthetically, proving that it was sometimes better to be lucky than good. The moment was broken up by the sound of a gruff voice cutting in.

"Marcus, there's been an attack in Italy." Brock announced. "We need to return to HQ. We have new orders."

In the aftermath of the attack Taranto naval base the Italians were left reeling. Gezora had gone on to attack several coastal towns following the attack on the harbor and eaten numerous civilians, perhaps feeling the need for protein to help heal his wounds.

On that point, there was some debate as to whether Gezora would survive the battle. The monster had been torn up pretty good by the firepower of the Italian battleships before it retreated. The naval brass hoped that he would succumb to his wounds in the days that followed.

However, the military higher ups were smart enough to realize they hardly experts on the topic, which lead to their next move. They brought in a well-respected marine biologist from the University of Bologna, which had the distinction of being the oldest university in the world. His name was Dr. Michael Orsini and he was one of Italy's foremost experts on deep sea life. They felt that if anyone could help them understand the new threat, it was him.

When Dr. Orsini arrived on the scene, he first set about examining the remains of the crippled battleship Giulio Cesare. The warship was still jammed into the shoreline were Gezora had pressed her. Dr. Orsini noted something odd lodged into the hull where the monster had gripped the ship with his tentacles. The creature appeared to have left clusters of fleshy residue behind where the cups had been attached. Whatever it was appeared to be imbedded into the metal.

The ship was resting low enough that the Dr. Orsini was able to walk up and take a closer look at them, along with his military entourage in toe. Captain Garibaldi was among officers helping Dr. Orsini investigate as he was probably the officer who saw the most of the monster during the attack and lived to tell about it. He had a vested interest in finding any clues about the monster which would give them an advantage in their next encounter with it.

Dr. Orsini produced a magnifying glass from his pocket and examined the residue. It was colorful contained dozens of bulbus nodules. The doctor turned from the mass of goop and took out a notepad and pencil to write something down. Then he told one of the naval officers that they would have to take a sample for further examination in the lab. One of the brash and curious ensigns reached up to touch the clump of fleshy material. Dr. Orsini looked back up just in time to see what the sailor was doing.

"**_DON'T TOUCH THAT!_**" Dr. Orsini shouted trying to warn him, but it was already too late.

The ensign's fingers pressed into the colorful blue bulbs and he immediately went stiff after contact. Much like a boxer who had taken a knockout punch to the temple, the sailor fell backwards, frozen in his outreaching pose. All his muscles were stuck in place. Within seconds the man had stopped breathing and his heart ceased beating. His comrades wanted to rush in and help but Dr. Orsini warned them against trying. It was already too late for him and anyone who made physical contact with the man ran the risk of succumbing to the same fate.

The fallen sailor and a sample from the Giulio Cesare's hull were both brought back the lab where Dr. Orsini could safety exam them both in a controlled environment with his equipment. He confirmed exactly what he had suspected to begin with. The chunks of flesh Gezora had left within the hull of the warship were venomous barbs. Something akin to what a jellyfish would use to stun prey. The barbs Gezora left contained a powerful neurotoxin. After some experiments, Dr. Orsini concluded it was the most potent example thus far on record. It was little wonder it killed the sailor so quickly. Clearly it wasn't meant for the purpose of killing humans, who would make poultry prey. The Doctor wondered how effective the toxin would be on something bigger.

While Dr. Orsini continued his research, Gezora's attacks were spreading fear through all of Italy in the days that followed. So much of the country was costal and therefore would be vulnerable to sudden attacks from the ocean.

The Italian government was facing several immediate crises. First, their main battle fleet had been crippled. Only a handful of their most powerful warships had survived. Second, their commercial fleets were afraid to even sail out of port, which had an immediate impact on their economy and goods flowing in and out of the country slowed to a crawl.

Finally, when word reached rebel groups in Italy's African colonies that the Italian fleet had been smashed and transport ships were stuck in port, they seized the opportunity to revolt, knowing that it was unlikely the colonial governors would receive reinforcements of any kind from the mainland anytime soon.

The uprisings were particularly large in the more distant colonies of Ethiopia and Somalia, where the unrest had already been smoldering for years. The rebels there finally an opportunity to act. It began with isolated Italian garrisons being overrun in surprise raids and the weapons inside being seized. After that, insurrection spread like wildfire.

The one notable exception was Libya. The indigenous populations there had problems of their own, with Kameras on the loose moving eastward through their lands wreaking havoc. The military forces Italy had in the area were already mobilized and on high alert. They were already gathering for a counterattack near the city of Tubruq.

Elsewhere, the Italian government responded as best they could, recalling any of their warships back to port and putting all their ports on high alert. The coastal areas were constantly patrolled by small torpedo boats and kept near constant contact with their bases on the shore. The Italian army was also deployed to the coastal areas on the mainland, ready to counter any further incursions by the monster Gezora.

The Italian air force was also on alert and used to patrol the skies around the coast, which lead to an unfortunate incident where a bomber squadron attacked one of their own submarines as it was returning to port. The submarine had been mistaken for Gezora. The pilots simply saw an object under the water moving towards the port and panicked. The submarine was sunk with all hands aboard. After that, all submarines were put on notice to surface before approaching the coasts.

The African question was a tougher one to answer. Until Gezora had been dealt with there was too much risk in trying to get additional troop transports across the Mediterranean to defend the colonies. Libya had sufficient numbers of men and equipment for their planned attack on Kameras, but the rebels in Ethiopia and Somalia were a real problem.

The only thing the Italians could do to counter the uprisings in the meantime was fly in troops handfuls at a time. However, the numbers of men that could be brought to the front that way was far short of what they'd need to regain the initiative over the rebels. For the time being, the best the Italians could hope for is to hold their ground until the navy was able to safely resume operations.

With two monsters actively roaming the Mediterranean and so many of their ships already lost, the Italians were not strong enough to counter the threats on their own. The Italian government did not have the money or the time to rebuild their fleet, so they were left with only one recourse. They needed to request outside help. Fortunately for them, there were plenty of other powers who had an interest in keeping the waters of the Mediterranean open and safe for merchant ships to travel.

Thusly, the Italians requested emergency talks with, Great Britain, the United States, and France. A dialog was opened and eventually led to an agreement of cooperation between the navies of the great powers. Together they would hunt down and kill Gezora and Kameras. Along with their powerful navy, the British army in north Africa would also coordinate operations with the Italians army. Their main goal was to defeat Kameras.

Kameras however had not been seen for over forty-eight hours since he destroyed a small coastal town thirty miles west of Tubruq in Libya. The Italian army had gathered a respectable defense force in the around the city, expecting that would be the next place Kameras would strike. They were in place and ready if the monster should surface there.

As formidable as the Italian forces were, their strategic planners doubted they would be able to take down Kameras alone. The British were already moving their own forces towards the boarder of Egypt and Libya. They calculated that Kameras had probably already bypassed Tubruq, as it would fit into its previous established pattern of behavior.

The Brits were hoping to catch Kameras in a pincher maneuver between themselves and the Italian forces from Tubruq who would be in close pursuit. The monster however wasn't cooperating with their plan. The British forces arrived at the border but did not cross over to avoid certain political pitfalls that would follow. Instead they stopped short waited.

Another twenty-four hours passed with no sign of the monster on either side of the boarder. Then word came in from a British destroyer that they had sighted the monster in the water sixty miles further east than the concentration of British units.

Alarms were raised and the British scrambled to redeploy their men back into Egypt. The Italian forces in Tubruq were also alerted and given permission to enter Egyptian territory to join the English. The skies above the north Africa desert were filled with the long dust trails of British and Italian armored columns desperate to catch up with Kameras.

Meanwhile on the water the British fleet moved to try to intercept Kameras, but the monster made landfall in Egypt before they could arrive in force and the creature began marching eastward unopposed. The monster however wasn't terribly fast on land and the British columns were slowly above to make up ground. Eventually the British were able to catch up and bypass the monster without him being aware.

After getting ahead of Kameras, the British looked for a place to stop and make a stand, but they wanted the Italians to take part in the fight so they could wedge the monster between their two forces like they originally had in mind.

The Italians however were still lagging behind, having to undig themselves from their fortified positions in Tubruq and then try to play catch up to the British who had started ahead of them. Such as it was, the British keep just ahead of the monster and avoided detection. Unfortunately, the British were being driven further and further into their own territory the longer they wanted.

Eventually Kameras had advanced to a point where the British were forced to turn and fight. He had emerged from the sparsely inhabited desert regions and was beginning to enter more populated areas where he could start doing significant damage. When Kameras was just stomping around in the sand he was easy to ignore but letting him damage Egyptian infrastructure was a different matter.

In fact, the monster was getting uncomfortably close to the priceless and irreplaceable Pyramids of Giza. The British decided they needed to slow the monster down with aircraft, trying to buy the Italians time to close the gap. Supermarine Spitfires, the newest and best fighter aircraft the British Royal Navy had to offer, were launched from the nearby carriers HMS Eagle and HMS Glorious. Together with land-based bombers from the area they harassed Kameras relentlessly.

The weapons on the warplanes were no match for Kameras' armor plates, but they did succeed in distracting him. The monster's already slow pace ground to a crawl as he would stop and look up whenever he heard the buzzing of the plane's engines.

Kameras was angered and annoyed by bombs popping against his shell. He would swipe at the fighters when they came in low enough. Kameras apparently didn't have the best of eyesight though. He never came even close to hitting any of the planes, even when the pilots got recklessly close to his face to strafe him.

There was one time when the planes did more than just annoy Kameras. A lucky hit with a bomb struck the top of Kameras neck between the protection of his shell and horns. The monster shuttered from the explosion and pulled his head back towards his shell instinctively.

Flight commanders took notice and tried to replicate the attack but bombing attacks at the time hopelessly relied on luck for accuracy. Precision bombing just was not possible. Attack after attack failed to produce similar results and Kameras trudged onward.

Finally, when the monster was within mere miles of the pyramids did the Italians finally catch up. They were only miles behind the monster and closing. British ground forces deemed it was the right time and began to dig in and prepared to attack.

The Great pyramid was one hundred and forty-six meters tall and was the one thing in the landscape that could make Kameras seem small by comparison. The Great Sphinx looked on as the battle began to unfold in front of her. She was over four-thousand years old, but even she had never seen a battle quite like this before.

As Kamerus approached the British artillery opened up first, showering him with furious volleys. Their firepower was accurate, but otherwise useless. It wasn't enough again the monster's heavily armored shell. Next the sexton self-propelled artillery pieces joined the fight, but to no avail. British Valentine medium tanks and heavy Churchill tanks moved in from the left flank and began their attack. Their guns were equally useless against the monster's armor.

The British were starting to lose their nerve as Kameras continued to advance on them. But then the Italians arrived on the battlefield and hastily moved in from the rear. Dozens of m15 tanks advanced fired. Their shots plinked right off Kameras' dorsal shell. The monster did not even register the attacks because that was where his armored was the thickest and the Italians went almost completely unnoticed in the fight.

Kameras advanced forward until he was amongst the British artillery lines. He stomped on anything too slow to get out of his way and swung his tail to the side sending sand, men, and machines flying in his wake. What was left of the British lines was crumbling as men abandoned their positions to avoid being crushed.

The fight was dying down as the Italians couldn't fire anymore without risking hitting British soldiers as the retreated. At that point Kameras spotted the Pyramids and started moving in their direction. There weren't any more British units between the monster and ancient monuments.

Suddenly there was a shrill shriek that filled up the battlefield, which caught not only the attention of all the soldiers, but also Kameras. All looked up to see Mothra streaking down from above. She swooped in and buzzed over Kameras' head in an aggressive fashion. She nearly clipped him in the process, and he roared in anger.

Kameras continued forward, trying to ignore Mothra, but she was not about to let that happen. She came back down directly in his path and beat her wings downward close against the hot sand of the desert. The sand whipped up and flew into Kameras blasting him. In particular, the sand got into his eyes, which stopped him in his tracks.

Mothra used the opportunity to fly in behind Kameras unseen and grapple onto the back of his shell. She beat her wings furiously trying to lift him, but he was simply too heavy. Kameras' eyes were closed, still burning from the sand, but he could feel where Mothra was and used his tail to try to flick her off. His first swing was a near miss.

Mothra let go of Kameras, sensing the danger of being hit by his spiked tail. As she rose up out of danger, Kameras' tail whipped straight up trying to catch her, but instead he ended up hitting himself square in the back. The blow hit with enough force to send him stumbling forward.

Mothra meanwhile flew off to the right and away from the Pyramids. Kameras by that point managed to get most of the sand out of his eyes and was beyond pissed off. He charged forward slowly, following Mothra away from the monuments and soldiers. Mothra continued to retreat, flying above the wreckage of several vehicles Kameras had smashed through earlier. The soldiers who had occupied the machines were either already dead or and had fled the field.

Mothra rounded after passing over them and waited for Kameras to close the gap between them. Once he had gotten close enough Mothra once again beat her wings against the sand. Kameras remembered what happened the last time she had done that and closed his eyes to avoid a second dose of sand to his eyes. However, it was a trap and Mothra had been counting on him closing his eyes.

The vehicles littered about on the desert floor were caught up in Mothra's windstorm and flew up at Kameras. He never saw them coming. A fuel truck hit Kameras square in the face and then exploded. Then a tank crashed against Kameras' arm, which was less heavily armored and made him flinch noticeably.

Kameras dashed forward in a surprising burst of speed and slashed at Mothra with his clawed hands. Even at his fastest though, he was far too slow to catch Mothra that way. The attack did however force her to cease her own attack to avoid his. With the wind gone Kameras opened his eyes and saw Mothra just out of reach. All of the Sudden Kameras' head sprang forward up at Mothra, catching her by surprise. His jaws snapped shut just feet short of catching Mothra's left wing. She hastily flew up to get clear and then glided away gracefully to regroup.

Kameras however sensed an opportunity to strike. He had yet another surprise up his sleeve. With a flick of his tail he sent three spines flying at Mothra, who did not see them because her back was still turned towards him. Fortunately for her, Kameras was not the greatest shot, even on his best day, and they missed her body. One of the bolts missed entirely while the other two sunk into Mothra's right wing.

Mothra only became aware of the missed attack after seeing the spikes sticking out of her wing. She immediately banked left and then made a B-line back towards Kameras. She approached from his blind side. Kameras was slow to turn to face her. He just managed to turn in time to see Mothra right on top of him.

Mothra beat her wings firmly against Kameras' upper torso. While she did, one of the imbedded spikes hit Kameras' hard shell and popped out of the wing like a nail being hit by a hammer from the opposite side of a board. The second spike however found its way into the fleshy space between the two halves of Kameras' shell, right between his neck and shoulder.

The spike lodged itself into Kameras, while at the same time pulling out of Mothra's wing. The pain he felt was obvious and immediate. Kameras used his arms to push Mothra away and blood began to pour out of his puncture wound.

Mothra meanwhile backed away giving him space. Kameras used the time to pull out the spine and drop it to the desert floor. Once it had hit, Mothra moved back closer to Kameras, but kept her distance. Kameras stared up at her as if her were contemplating his next move. Mothra by that point had started flapping her wings to release some of her poisonous golden powder. Interestingly though, she wasn't close enough to Kameras for it to touch him, but rather seemed to be using it more as a threat display.

Kameras stood there for only a moment longer before turning to leave. He began trudging along northward towards the Mediterranean Sea. Mothra followed behind, keeping a safe distance. She did not attack Kameras again but was keeping a close on him.

The battle appeared to be over.


End file.
